


Blackout

by MindfulWrath



Series: Powered [3]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Asphyxiation, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Dismemberment, Eye Trauma, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control, Needles, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Paralysis, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 62
Words: 246,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindfulWrath/pseuds/MindfulWrath
Summary: The crew is back in Bristol, coping with their losses after removing the old YogLabs Administrative Board. Just when things are settling down, a YogLabs employee turns up murdered, and the old L41-NB model goes missing. . . .(The final installment of the Powered series.)





	1. Prologue

_My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth a bird that will revenge upon you all._

_—William Shakespeare_

* * *

 

Nano was going to die.

She stood stock-still, focusing on her breathing. All around her were bright lights and noise, motion, activity. She was burning up. The tuxedo, so well-tailored at first, was now strangling her, constricting, sticking to her like tar. Stupidly, the thought entered her head that she'd never be able to return it, not with her acid sweat drenching the insides. She'd be lucky if she made it another hour without the thing falling off her in tatters. The shoes were too big. She couldn't breathe. She'd slugged down a glass of champagne for courage and _God_ what a mistake that had been, because now her head was spinning and she was going to be sick and she couldn't _breathe. . . ._

A different clamor arose, a crashing of musical notes that assailed her ears and shivered in her chest. She froze up while her heart leapt into her throat. This was it. This was really, honestly it, last chance, no turning back. She turned her head, her vision blurred as though in a dream.

The doors at the back of the church opened, and there stood Lomadia. She was resplendent in red, wearing the most beautiful dress Nano had ever seen. The light caught her wings just right, making them glow like clouds at sunset. Her hair was done up and there was gold around her ankles and she was _beaming._

Lomadia caught her eye and wiggled her fingers in a small, secret wave. Nano remembered how to breathe again.

Stately and proud, Lomadia came down the aisle. On her arm, Rythian looked small and goofy and awkward, clearly uncomfortable in his tux. A hush had fallen over the assembled, although the music was still playing. Someone was already crying—she could hear them sniffling out in the pews. There was a lump rising in her throat and a prickling in her sinuses, and she knew she would be following their lead all too soon.

Carefully, awkwardly, Rythian relinquished his hold on Lomadia's arm, letting go with both hands at once and immediately stepping away. She smiled at him, then took Nano's hands and came to stand in front of her.

"Hi," Nano whispered, choked up.

"Hi," Lomadia said, smiling like she couldn't contain herself.

Nano squeezed her hands. "Ready?"

Lomadia nodded. "Ready."

The music reached its conclusion—just a little later than would have been ideal—and there was the sound of a clearing throat above the general hubbub.

"Dearly beloved," Panda said, too close to the microphone, "we are gathered here today. . . ."

* * *

 

It all passed in something of a blur, but there were always Lomadia's hands on hers, always Lomadia's eyes sparkling and golden, the very same color as the rings themselves. The vows were sweet as honey on her tongue. Before she knew it, she'd kissed Lomadia and the room had cheered and the music had exploded forth once more, and then Lomadia swept her into her arms and carried her from the church. There was a car waiting to take them to the reception, but Lomadia completely ignored it, leaping into the sky with Nano still in her arms.

"You haven't got to _carry_ me," Nano said, her arms around Lomadia's neck, the sky warm and sunny all around her.

"Yes I have," said Lomadia.

"We'll be early to the reception, at this rate," said Nano.

Lomadia turned to look at her and smiled a wicked little smile.

"No we won't," she said.

Nano cackled.

* * *

 

By the time they got to the reception banquet, only slightly more disheveled than could be easily explained by flight, the party was gaining momentum towards full swing. Long tables of catered food had been laid out, music was playing, people were milling about in the awkward stages before the first round of drinks took effect. Lalna was conspicuous, head and shoulders taller than everyone else. They waved to Nano as she came in. Rythian was near them, talked animatedly to Panda. Nano's parents were near the DJ's booth, although they hadn't spotted her yet. Strife was there, hanging at the back of the room, munching on canapés and drinking champagne. He raised his glass to Nano.

"Sweetheart, could you excuse me for a moment?" Nano said to Lomadia.

"Okay," said Lomadia. "I'll go see about making stuff happen. There's stuff like speeches, and cake." She kissed Nano, and Nano slipped along the back wall while Lomadia waded off through the crowd.

"You know," Nano said, leaning on the wall next to Strife and folding her arms, "I don't recall sending you an invitation."

Strife gestured to the room with his champagne glass. His other hand was resting on a stylish black cane. "I paid for the whole thing," he said. "I figure I get some of the food and drink. I didn't turn up to the actual ceremony, should get me _some_ brownie points, hey? I wasn't gonna bother you, but then you came over and bothered me, so here we are."

_"Well,"_ said Nano. "I guess I'll leave you to it, then. If you feel like making a scene, please do, I'd love to see you get thrown out."

Strife cracked a smile. He was watching the crowd, not even bothering to look at her. "Like I'd give you the satisfaction," he said.

"Keep guzzling champagne like that, and I'm not sure you'll be able to help it," she said. She pushed off the wall and started off.

"Hey, uh, congrats, by the way," Strife said.

Nano glanced back over her shoulder. "Thank you," she said. He toasted her and drained his glass.

* * *

 

Things continued being blurry for a while. The speeches, it turned out, weren't until later, when people were a little drunker. The cake was cut—it was a gorgeous, four-tiered affair, decorated with fondant gears and wires, feathers made of icing. It was also delicious.

Shortly after there was a lot of dancing—Nano's parents ambushed her then, and she got a dance with her father and one with her mother before they let her go back to Lomadia. That dance was heaven on Earth. Lomadia was warm, her hands gentle and strong. The room spun slowly around them, dim and colorful with fuzzy lights. Lomadia's talons clicked on the hardwood dance floor. Nano rested her head against her chest and listened to her heart beating.

The slow song came to an end, and there was a cheer, and something catchier came on, and the dance floor became somewhat more crowded. Nano stayed with Lomadia, fumbling through the steps of something approximating a waltz, although they were both so terrifically inept at it that there was a good deal more laughing than actual dancing.

As they danced, Nano caught sight of Nilesy, out in the dimness outside the dance floor. He was slouching at a table by himself, cheek propped on his hand, tears and a bittersweet smile on his face. She caught his eye and raised her eyebrows at him, silently inquiring if he was all right. He stared at her for a moment, then gave her a solid thumbs-up. As she watched, Lalna sat down next to him and caught his attention. Nilesy sat up a little straighter, turning to them. They asked him something, and after a brief hesitation, he cracked a smile and got to his feet. Nano lost track of them for a while, but the next time she saw them, Nilesy was guiding Lalna through the steps of a dance, wearing a grace she'd rarely seen. Lalna caught Nano watching and grinned at her.

"Look," Nano said, bumping Lomadia with her head and tipping it towards the pair of them.

"Aww," said Lomadia. "I hoped somebody would. I told them to put the songs he likes to dance to."

"You're the _sweetest,_ oh my God," Nano said.

"I made sure they had your favorite songs, too," said Lomadia, turning back to Nano.

_"Lom,"_ said Nano, blushing. "They're not even good dancing songs."

"So?" said Lomadia. "It's our party, we can play whatever we want. Besides, you're taking me to Spain later."

"I'm taking _us_ to Spain, sweetheart," said Nano.

"Sure," said Lomadia. "So I get to go to Spain with you."

Nano shook her head, smiling. She leaned her head on Lomadia's chest. "Thank you," she said.

"Nano?"

"Mmhm?"

"You're my wife."

A warm flush spread through Nano's body, rosy and glowing. "Yeah," she said. "And you're _my_ wife. How about that?"

Lomadia kissed her head. "It's nice," she said.

Nano laughed. "It is," she said. "It really, _really_ is."


	2. Chapter 1

"I can't leave for two weeks without someone dying," Nano said, surveying the wreckage of the storage room with her fists on her hips.

"Well," said Bates, "well, technically, ma'am, it happened last night. So—"

"Two weeks _exactly,"_ said Nano, pitching her voice high with exasperation. "Wonderful! Perfect. Who found it?"

"We both did," said Hazell. He pointed down the corridor. "We were headed for the flammables cabinet to pick up another bottle of ethanol."

"And it was just like this?" Nano asked, gesturing to the storage room.

"Um," said Bates.

"No," said Hazell.

"There was a body," said Bates.

"Yes, I know that, I meant _other_ than the body," she said, resisting the urge to bang their heads together.

"Oh," said Bates. He looked at Hazell and shrugged. "Yeah? I don't think anything else got moved."

Scowling, Nano looked over the room again.

It was a cluttered mess of boxes and crates, wiring and cabinets and shelves. There was a rudimentary workspace set up, complete with unboxed tools—multimeters, wire-strippers, a soldering iron, tubing, syringes, drills, saws, scalpels, on and on—and there was a hideous amount of blood. It was all over the floor and most of the shelves and, unfortunately, a good number of the tools. It was _not_ on the workspace around said tools, likely where the body had lain.

"Do we know what happened?" she asked.

"Well, I mean generally. . . ." said Hazell, and trailed off.

"I can tell you what it was," said Bates.

"Oh, don't _start_ with this shit," said Hazell, exasperated.

"What shit?" Nano asked.

"It's this stupid superstition," said Hazell. "It's a ghost story. Somebody made it up to freak out—sorry, to mess with the interns."

"It looks pretty goddamn real to me!" Bates cried, gesturing to the wrecked storage room.

"Alex—"

"No, I'd like to hear this ghost story," said Nano, looking between the two of them.

Hazell sighed and threw up his arms in exasperation. Bates turned to Nano.

"Well," he said. "It's—it's the old L41-NB."

Nano went cold. She clenched her jaw and kept her face carefully expressionless. Bates went on, glancing back at the storage room and wringing his hands.

"It got thrown in there, after it was destroyed," he said. "Along with one of the replicants it was making. They were both wrecked, y'know, completely, but. . . ."

"Here we go," Hazell muttered.

"People started hearing . . . noises," said Bates. "Bumps in the night. Little things started going missing—soldering irons, wire-clippers, tubing—"

"Anytime anybody lost anything, it got blamed on the ghost of the NB," Hazell drawled. He added in a mocking falsetto, _"Oh,_ _I can't find my pipettor_ _, the NB must've taken it!"_

"Look, shut up," Bates snapped.

"And nobody ever thought to just . . . _check?"_ Nano asked.

"No ma'am, no way," said Bates. Even Hazell shook his head. "We all knew what that thing could do when it was alive. Nobody was risking getting their head blown off. We just sort of . . . sealed up the storage room. Marked it _Full_ and started using another one. Nobody's looked in there for . . . oh, well over a year. We figured—we figured so long as we left it alone, nobody'd get hurt. And, y'know, up 'til last night, nobody did!"

Nano took a deep breath. She let it out through her nose.

"So where're the robots?" she asked.

Both scientists looked back at the storage room.

"Uh. . . ." said Hazell. He looked suddenly much paler.

"Right," Nano muttered. "Maybe an easier question: where's the _body?"_

"Medical's got it," said Bates.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," Nano snapped, bristling. "Already? Why?"

"Because they're the only ones with body-freezers!" Bates squealed, raising his hands in surrender.

Grinding her teeth, Nano forced herself to calm down.

"Thank you," she said, "for the help. If any journalists come by, tell them you don't know anything. Let PR handle it. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," the scientists chorused.

Nano turned and hurried out. She stopped briefly to tell the security detail to escort Bates and Hazell out of the corridor, and not to let anyone back in unless they were personally accompanied by Nano herself. With that, she headed off to Medical in full storm.

* * *

 

"I need to speak with Dr. Vox," Nano announced.

"I'm afraid he's in a meeting right now," said the receptionist, shrinking back from her.

"Oh, is he?" Nano said sweetly. "Would it happen to have anything to do with _the_ _dead_ _body in my department_ _?"_

"I don't know," the receptionist squeaked.

"Could you, perhaps, let him know that Dr. Sounds is here to see him?" she asked. "And could you, please, inform him that if he doesn't see _her_ in the next forty seconds, he'll be scraping his own balls out of the back of his throat with a spoon?"

The receptionist's eyes went wide. He gulped and pressed a button on the conference phone on his desk.

"Uh, Dr. Vox?" he said, his voice nearly a falsetto.

 _"Hey hey, didn't I tell you I'm in a meeting?"_ Bebop whined. The attenuation did nothing to soften the edges of his accent.

"Yes, sir, you did, sir," said the receptionist. "But, sir, Dr. Sounds is here, sir, and she's very very angry, sir."

There was a moment of silence, then a clattering noise. The door to Nano's left swung open and Bebop scurried out, although he was clearly attempting to _swan._ His hair was wafting in the breeze. There was a startled-looking scientist floundering in the room behind him.

"Nano!" he cried genially. "Good to see you! What's up, how's it hangin', what can I do for ya?"

He made as though to clap her on the shoulder, saw the look on her face, and swerved at the last second. He ended up high-fiving the air next to her arm.

 _"What_ have you done with the body?" she demanded.

"The . . . _oh._ Right right, yeah, the body, that body. C'mon, I'll show you. It's down in the—thing. Y'know."

He started off, his candyfloss blond hair wisping out around his head.

"You've seen it, then?" she asked, stalking along behind him.

"Sure, sure," he said, nodding. He led her to an elevator and down, towards the basement. "I looked it over when it came in. Couldn't resist. Kind of a professional curiosity kind of a thing."

"And?"

"It's nasty!" he said brightly.

"When did you get it?" she asked.

"Mmm, seven? Seven-fifteen at the latest. I didn't do the logs."

"And how long had it been dead?"

 _"Pffft,_ I dunno, I'm not a forensics guy."

"You've got some," Nano said.

"Ehhhh, yeah, I guess," said Bebop. He took a lollipop out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and stuck it in his mouth.

"Look, you've got to have _someone_ in your _entire department_ who can tell me the time of death," Nano said.

Bebop pulled the lollipop out of his mouth with a long, gross, sucking sound. "Sure," he said.

_"Why didn't you call them?"_

"Oh, somebody did, don't get your panties in a twist," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's all written down somewhere by somebody."

Nano was two more words away from ripping Bebop's ear off when the elevator stopped and he stepped out. She followed him, grinding her teeth.

"My guys write _everything_ down," said Bebop. "Boy, I'll tell you, back when Ridge was in charge? _Man!_ He'd kick your booty to the curb for forgetting the date on one page of your lab notebook if he caught you. We lost more postdocs that way, _mm."_

He winced, to emphasize his point.

"So anyway, it's pretty much habit that everything gets written down," he concluded. "Some of the old-timers take notes on if they fart in the lab. Y'know, 'cause of organics and—"

"Bebop, unless it's about my _murder victim_ _,_ shut up," Nano interrupted. She was very definitely _not_ thinking about the last time she'd seen Ridge.

_Startled_ _and pale,_ _perfect hair mussed,_ _chest ripped asunder_ _, blood in the water—_

Bebop made a face and put the lollipop back in his mouth.

He led her to a cold-room, let her in and handed her a spare lab coat. He shrugged one on himself and snagged a pair of blue nitrile gloves from a box by the door. Nano followed suit while he picked his way across the room, humming to himself. The far wall was lined with square hatches, and Bebop tapped six or seven of them before alighting on one he liked. With a flourish, he heaved the hatch down and slid out the body inside.

"For fuck's sake!" Nano burst out. "You couldn't wait twenty-four hours to cut the poor sod open?"

"Oh, this isn't our work," said Bebop, tonguing his lollipop into his cheek to talk. "He came in like that."

The blood drained from Nano's face. She gulped.

"Oh," she said.

The body, what was left of it, was pale and large. It was impossible to tell the sex despite the lack of clothing. The whole torso had been cut open and excavated. The rib cage had been snapped at the sternum and pried open like a bear-trap. There were no organs remaining—heart, lungs, stomach, intestines, all gone, leaving a red and stringy shell like the inside of a jack-o-lantern. The face and ears had been peeled off, exposing the skull underneath. All the teeth had been pulled out. The scalp was gone, too, hair and all. The fingernails and toenails were missing. Whatever had been between the legs was gone, cut away down to the pelvic bone.

"Mmhm, they took all the juicy bits," said Bebop. "Well, _almost_ all the juicy bits. Only one thing bothers me about it."

"Just one?" Nano said faintly.

"Yeah," he said, frowning. "They didn't take the eyes. Now leaving the brain I understand, you can't even _sell_ a brain, they're pretty much useless unless you're doing pathology, but you can get a good price for eyes if you sell 'em to the right people. Doesn't make sense."

"Right, fine, you can put it away now," said Nano.

"Huh?" said Bebop. He looked down at the body. "Oh, right. Yeah, sure, if it's upsetting your delicate sensibilities."

Nano just managed to resist slamming his head in the steel hatch. He slid the body back into its nook and closed it in.

"Who should I ask about time of death?" Nano asked, trying to move this along as quickly as possible.

"Oh, you don't _ask,"_ said Bebop, like it was obvious. "C'mere, there's a little chart doohickey."

Fuming, Nano stalked over to him. He rattled the hatch and made her jump, then giggled like a schoolboy. She stood there glaring at him in silence until he reddened and poked the hatch with one finger.

"Uh, there ya go," he said. "Should have all your stuff."

A screen had come to life on the hatch, displaying a medical chart. Nano moved up and examined it. There weren't any real surprises. The cause of death was listed as blunt force trauma to the C2 cervical vertebra. The time of death was _04:30-05:30, April 9, 2037._

"And _that's_ all I needed to know," Nano said, turning away and stripping off the nitrile gloves. "Thank you _oh_ so much for all your quote-unquote _help."_

"Hey, anytime," said Bebop. "We'll just uh . . . hang on to him?"

"At least until you've filled out all the paperwork!" Nano sang over her shoulder. As she exited the cold room, she was gratified to hear Bebop groan.

* * *

 

The next place Nano visited was the main Security office, up on the first floor. She explained her business and was shown back to the monitor room, where a fresh-faced young woman with really _incredible_ red lipstick was sipping a coffee and watching about sixteen screens at once.

"Dr. Nano Sounds," Nano said, when prompted to introduce herself. "Head of Section L."

"Nysira," said the woman, shaking her hand. She had a mild accent that, for whatever reason, put Nano slightly ill at ease. "Security grunt."

"I s'pose you've heard about the death?" Nano asked, pulling up a rolling chair.

"Mmhm, almost nothing else," said Nysira. "Where should I start looking?"

"Four-thirty this morning," said Nano. "Sometime between then and five-thirty."

"And where?"

"RMB ground floor, west service corridor."

Nysira pulled up the footage. She sipped her coffee, leaving red stains on the white plastic lid.

"Do you want to sit for an hour, or should I fast-forward?" she asked, gesturing to a monitor where a set of four camera feeds were pulled up.

"I wouldn't think it'd be particularly hard to see," Nano intoned.

"Mm, right," said Nysira. She did some clicking and typing, and the footage sped forward. In the top right corner of the screen, the door to the storage room was clearly visible, although at a steep angle.

Half an hour sped by in five minutes. There was no apparent change, until suddenly, the storage room door popped open. The angle of the camera was such that nothing inside could be seen, which was probably why the night shift hadn't reported anything.

"Stop," Nano said. Nysira had already paused the footage. "Go back, play it in regular speed."

Nysira rewound to about five a.m., then let the feed play in normal time. For two minutes, nothing happened, and then the door burst open yet again. Nano shook her head, rubbing her temple, but Nysira sat forward.

"That's weird," she said, frowning at the screen. "Look, it just— _fwoop!_ Pops open." She ran the footage back and forth a couple of times, watching the door pop open and closed. It didn't swing on its hinges at all, Nano noticed—one moment it was closed, and the next it was open, with no apparent movement or space in between states. There was no sign of movement or change on any of the other three cameras.

"Can you go frame-by-frame?" Nano asked, leaning in.

"Sure," said Nysira. She paused the footage and started tapping the right arrow key. One frame, the door was closed, and then there was a single black frame across all four cameras, and then the door was open.

"It's been tampered with," said Nano. "I mean, it must've been, right? Somebody fed you a loop, or something."

Nysira pursed her red lips, once again running the footage back and forth over the opening of the door, but now frame-by-frame.

"I don't know," she said. "This stuff is pretty tamper-proof. It's not like the CCTV at your corner drugstore. All the files are encrypted."

"What's more likely?" said Nano. "That somebody hacked the cameras, or that it _actually_ happened just like that?"

"Mmmm, hard to say," Nysira said, still flipping through the footage. Closed, black frame, open. Black frame, closed. Black frame, open. "There's some pretty weird Powers out there, it's not too crazy to think maybe somebody did something."

"In the space of, what, one twenty-fourth of a second?" Nano asked.

"One sixteenth," said Nysira. "The frame-rate's not that good. It saves space."

"Okay, well, if it was a Powered thing, it should've affected the other cameras, too," said Nano. "Unless somebody teleported in and—"

She stopped. Nysira looked up at her.

"And?"

"Nysira," she said slowly. "What could cause a black frame?"

"Plenty of things," said Nysira. "Short in the wiring, bad data, bug flying in front of the lens. . . ."

"In all four cameras? All at once?"

"Well, a short. . . ." said Nysira, sounding less sure. "Maybe a power surge?"

"An electromagnetic pulse?" Nano inquired.

"No, probably not," said Nysira. "That would knock it out for much longer than one frame."

Nano's shoulders slumped with relief. "Right," said said. "Well. Okay. Could it maybe be from somebody hacking it? A bad splice at the end of a loop, maybe?"

"Mm, that could do it," said Nysira. "But I really don't think it was hacked."

"I know at least one person who's very capable of hacking into YogLabs security systems," said Nano.

"Maybe you should ask them, then," said Nysira. "The reason I don't think it's a loop, okay, is because the time-stamps still match up. If it's a loop, it's very very sophisticated. See?"

She brought the footage back several seconds, tapping the left arrow key rapidly. She pointed to the numbers at the bottom of the screen and let the footage run. Sure enough, the times were continuous between the before and after. At 04:59:59 the door was closed, and at 05:00:00 it was open. Nano made a face.

"Right," she said. "Hey, is it all right if I get a copy of this? Maybe like, the five minutes leading up to it and then a couple of minutes after? I want to show . . . my expert."

"Sure, I can do that," said Nysira. "Do you have a flash drive or something?"

"Yeah, I do," said Nano. She dug in her pockets and handed over a flash drive to Nysira, who plugged it in and spent only a few minutes transferring the data.

"Good luck," she said, handing the flash drive back to Nano. She sounded sincere.

"Thanks," said Nano. "And, also, thanks for being the first _actually helpful_ person I've talked to today. It's refreshing."

"Only for you, am I helpful," said Nysira, smirking. "For the rowdy-boys, no."

Nano snorted. "Serves them right. I'll see you around, I s'pose."

"I'll _definitely_ see you," said Nysira, and winked. Nano blushed and fiddled with her wedding ring.

"I guess," she said. "Thanks again."

Nysira's eyes flicked down to Nano's fiddling left hand. She raised her eyebrows. She sipped her coffee.

"Go away, go on," she said, and turned back to her monitors. Nano left, rubbing at her temple. She had a headache coming on.

* * *

 

It took Nano the better part of two hours to actually call Lalna, because the paperwork caught up with her and the sooner she got it all properly submitted the less of a thorn in her side it would be. Apparently, the victim had been one Walter Cornish, 34, formerly of the Section L Intelligence Program and now relegated to working on pocket lasers. He was unmarried, no children, and his emergency contact was a sister in Middlesborough. His identity had been confirmed by one of his lab mates (although Nano was hard pressed to work out _how,_ exactly). Walter, it seemed, habitually worked the graveyard shift on account of a severe case of misophonia. His absence was only noted because his lab coat was missing from its hook when his lab mates came in.

Further unsettled by this information, Nano shuttered all the windows in her office before making the phone call. She locked her door. She used her personal phone because it was less likely to be wiretapped.

The phone rang once before Lalna picked up.

 _"Hi,"_ they said. _"What's up?"_

"Hi, Lal. Are you busy right now?"

 _"Not really,"_ said Lalna. _"I've got plenty of available processing power. What d'you need?"_

"Well," Nano sighed. "We found a dead body in a storage room this morning. One of my people, it turns out."

 _"Yikes,"_ said Lalna.

"Yeah, that about sums it up," said Nano. "We tried to get a look at what happened, but the security footage has been tampered with. Now, I only know of three people who've hacked YogLabs security systems before. Two of them are dead, and I'm talking to the third one."

 _"I didn't do it,"_ Lalna said immediately.

"Lal—no, that's not what I meant, I wasn't trying to imply—" She broke off, shaking her head. "Sorry. I should've phrased that better. I was just hoping you might be able to help us figure out who did the hacking."

 _"Oh,"_ said Lalna. _"Sure, I can do that. What's the footage?"_

"I've got it on a flash drive, I can send it to you. Unless it's faster for you to just grab it off the cloud or whatever. It's from last night, around 5 a.m., in RMB. Ground floor, west service corridor."

There was a brief pause. _"Found it,"_ they said. _"It's been tampered with."_

"I figured as much," said Nano, not even bothering to hide her smugness. "Can you tell how? Or better yet, who?"

 _"That'll take a little longer,"_ they said. _"I can keep working on it for you, if you want."_

"That would be fantastic, thanks," said Nano.

 _"It'll give me something to do,"_ they said. _"Was there anything else you needed?"_

"Not just now, no," she said.

_"Okay. I'll send you the paperwork for my consultation fee."_

Nano rolled her eyes, smiling. "Okay, thank you."

_"You're welcome."_

"Bye, Lal. I'll see you tonight."

_"Bye, Nano."_

They hung up. Nano rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing.

It was going to be a very long day.


	3. Chapter 2

It was nearly seven o'clock by the time Nano got home. She dumped her bag by the door and let out a monumental groan. From the next room, Lomadia emerged, her claws clicking on the cheap linoleum floor of the kitchen. She swept Nano into a hug without preamble and kissed her.

"Hi, wife," she said softly.

Despite herself, Nano smiled. She slid her arms around Lomadia's waist, spinning her wedding ring around on her finger.

"Hi, wife," she replied.

Lomadia kissed her again, and for longer. Nano melted against her.

"How was work?" Lomadia asked.

 _"Uuuughhhh,"_ said Nano.

"That bad?"

"You've no idea. I'm _exhausted._ And starving. I could eat a cow."

"The boys and Lalna invited us over for dinner," Lomadia mentioned. "Panda's making lamb and roasted veg and Lal said they'd do something or other for dessert."

"Mm, sounds lovely," said Nano. "I can tell you all about the absolutely _fucked_ day I've had."

"Do you want to lie down for a bit first? We can tell them we'll be late."

"If I lie down, sweetheart, I won't get back up for eight hours _at least."_

"That's okay, I can make you dinner here and bring it to you in bed."

"Mm, tempting. Haven't you got things?"

"Not really. I talked to Fox about it and xe said it's fine if I want to get there at eleven. I just have to stay until seven. So I can leave when you go to bed and then I'll get home before you leave."

"God bless you and God bless Fox," said Nano, squeezing her. Lomadia kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back.

"If we go now we can get to the other flat by seven," Lomadia said. "If you want to go."

Nano blew a breath out threw her lips and pressed her forehead to Lomadia's chest. "Yeah, I s'pose," she said. "Panda's cooking is worth not collapsing for."

"And mine's not?"

"If you were cooking, I could collapse anyway," Nano said tactfully.

"Oh. Okay." She kissed Nano's head again. "We should go. They said seven-ish."

With a sigh, Nano peeled herself off of Lomadia. They linked arms, and Lomadia walked her out, locking the door behind them.

It was a short trip from their two-bedroom flat to the four-bedroom a block down the street. The evening was balmy and clear, and it was a pleasant walk. As it turned out, a nearly full complement of Strife Solutions and YogLabs salaries had left them surprisingly well-off.

Shortly after Nano knocked, Lalna came and opened the door. They looked the two of them up and down and raised their eyebrows.

"Password?" they asked.

"Oh, _quit,"_ Rythian called from inside.

Lalna's eyes went green, and they smiled. "I'm not quitting," they confided.

"The password is _Let me in, you massive twat,"_ Nano said.

Lalna made a face. "I don't think that's the password at all," they said.

Rythian came up behind Lalna and poked them in the side. "Would you let the poor women in, Lalna?"

They pouted at him. "Okay," they said, and stood aside, holding the door for Nano and Lomadia. The flat was filled with the smell of lamb and roast vegetables, and the TV was playing some noise-filling drivel in the background. Panda was in the kitchen, his hair pulled into a loose ponytail at the back of his neck. At some point in the past twenty-four hours, he'd dyed the white streaks bright red. He looked up as the two women entered, flashing a smile.

"Hiya Lom, hi Nano," he said. "You've just made it in time, I was right about to start serving up. D'you want anything to drink?"

"Ooh, um, is there tea?" Nano asked, gravitating to the couch.

"There can be," said Panda, "if Rythian doesn't mind starting it."

"You could just ask," said Rythian, moving carefully into the kitchen and putting the kettle on. "Lomadia? Tea?"

"No, I'm just having water," she said. "Where's Nilesy?"

"He's in his room," said Lalna, shutting the door and locking it. "He had therapy today. It always makes him hole up. He said he'd come out when dinner was ready."

"Well you'd better go get him, then, because it's ready," said Panda. "Or I can just yell. _Oy, Niles! Food's on!"_

Lomadia winced, and Nano patted her arm. She settled onto the couch and put her feet up, and Lomadia climbed up and perched behind her. Lalna came over and sat on the floor by the other end of the couch.

"I've been working on that thing you sent me," they said. Nano shut her eyes and waved a hand.

"No work talk," she said. _"Nooooo_ work talk. You can tell me tomorrow morning at eight."

Lalna shrugged. "Okay," they said.

"How _was_ work?" Panda asked, bringing over two plates of lamb with spiced potatoes, carrots, Swiss chard, and zucchini. The smell of it was absolutely mouth-watering.

Groaning, Nano accepted the plate from Panda. "It was a _nightmare,"_ she said.

Lomadia took the other plate, and Panda went back into the kitchen.

"That bad?" said Rythian, tending to the kettle as it whistled.

"Worse," said Nano.

Nilesy shuffled in, took stock of the room, and sat at the kitchen counter. His hair was falling directly into his eyes, and continued to do so no matter how often he pushed it back.

"Hiya Niles," Panda said, setting a plate of food in front of him. "Water's hot for tea, if you want it."

"Tea sounds good, thanks," said Nilesy.

"What kind?" Rythian asked.

Panda set a plate down next to Rythian, then came and sat down next to Nano with his own plate.

"So what happened?" he asked. "At work."

Nano rolled her eyes. Her mouth was full of lamb—which was _heavenly—_ and she gestured while she chewed to indicate that she was going to answer.

"Somebody got murdered," she said.

"Wasn't me," Nilesy said immediately.

"I—no, of course it wasn't," said Nano. She sighed, trying not to think about the body, lest she lose her appetite completely. "I just thought I'd get maybe a _couple_ of days to get back into the swing of things before everything went tits-up."

"Do they—do you know who it . . . was?" Rythian asked.

"Yeah," she said, rubbing her temple. "One of the ex-SLIP people, apparently. They all got redistributed after—everything went down. _But,_ since they're all still Section L, and since it happened in our wing, it's my problem. I don't _particularly_ want to talk about it over dinner, if it's all the same to you."

"Fair enough," said Panda.

"The _other_ thing that happened," said Nano, digging into the roast vegetables, "was that I got slapped in the face by how _gay_ I am."

"Aww, was there a pretty girl?" Lomadia asked, teasing.

 _"Ugh,_ God, Lom, she was _gorgeous,_ it's not fair," said Nano. "She had this _bright_ red lipstick. I _just_ about died."

Lomadia kissed the top of her head. "My poor gay wife," she said.

"Too gay to function," said Nano.

"Sometimes I forget how pretty Fox is," Lomadia said. "Then xe does something rude like laughing, and I forget how to talk."

"My poor bi wife," Nano said, leaning against her and grinning.

"Fox is an _asshole_ and xe _cannot_ get out of it by being pretty," Rythian said, offended. Lalna was leaning against his shins, observing placidly.

"You're just upset because xe's one of the six people on Earth who's not into you," Nano said, wrinkling her nose at him.

"That has _nothing_ to do with it!" Rythian said, pinkening.

"This is fantastic, Panda," Nilesy said, gesturing to his food.

"Yeah?" said Panda.

"Oh yeah," said Nano.

"It _is_ really good," Rythian admitted, begrudgingly.

"Aw, thanks," said Panda. "I thought it came out okay. The veg might be a bit too spicy, and I think I left the lamb in the oven too long."

"Food's like that," Lalna said, nodding. "It's super inconsistent."

Panda made a face. "Yeah, I guess. Hey, um, speaking of, d'you—want anything? To, like, I dunno, chew on?"

"No," said Lalna, tipping their head to the side. "Why?"

"I always feel bad, eating with you," said Panda. "Since you can't taste anything. It just feels _rude._ I wonder if there's some way you can taste things, so you won't be left out when we have dinner together."

"There is," said Lalna. "I figured it out ages ago. I just thought it was wasteful, since I can't use food for anything. I've been working on an olfactory array, though. I thought that would be fun."

"That's Lalna, everybody, installing whole senses just for kicks," said Nano.

"You would if you could," said Lalna.

"Oh, absolutely," said Nano. "I'm only snippy because I'm jealous. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were _bored_ with your job moving crates about."

"I _am_ bored with moving crates about," said Lalna.

"I didn't know you got bored," said Lomadia.

"I didn't used to," said Lalna. "I sort of miss it. But I think I like boredom. I think of stuff when I'm bored because I have to amuse myself."

"What kinds of stuff?" Rythian asked.

Lalna shrugged. "Just stuff."

 _"Robot_ stuff?"

"Maybe."

"Things like how to make an olfactory array," said Nano.

"Yeah!"

"You're being sneaky about something," said Rythian, brandishing his fork at them. Their eyes turned yellow.

"I have my reasons," they said.

"Scheming weasel," Rythian accused.

"Squeak," Lalna said.

"Do weasels squeak?" Nano asked, frowning.

"Oh yeah," said Lalna. "Sure."

"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic," she said.

"It's a mystery," said Lalna. Their eyes were the color of daffodils. Nano made a face at them.

"You're enjoying this too much," she said.

"I'm enjoying it entirely appropriately," they countered.

"According to the internet," Nilesy said, consulting his phone, "weasels _do_ squeak, yeah."

"See?" said Lalna.

"All right, but," Panda cut in, "I haven't like, overdone it on the spices, have I?"

"My brains aren't melting out through my nose, so no," said Nano.

"Yeah, but you're used to spicy shit," said Panda, wrinkling his nose.

"They're fine," said Lomadia. "I don't like spicy stuff, I think they're fine."

"Yeah?" said Panda. "Okay, good. I guess I'm just still calibrated to Zy's super-white palate."

Lomadia laughed. Panda shook his head.

"What, did he have like, no spice tolerance at all?" Nano asked.

"Oh, my God, you have no idea," said Panda. "One time I talked him into eating a jalapeño, and he was weeping in the bathroom for like an hour. Snot _everywhere,_ chugging milk like nobody's business, all red and sweaty and everything."

Nano laughed. "God, poor thing."

"It was _really_ funny," said Lomadia. "He whined about it for days and days after—"

There was a clatter of metal on ceramic. Nano looked up to see Nilesy collecting his plate and his tea and slipping out of his chair.

"Nilesy?" she said. The others turned their heads, too. Nilesy paused on the threshold of the corridor, his jaw tight.

"I _have_ asked you not to talk about him, in front of me," he said softly.

"Well, we can—" Panda began, but Nilesy was already walking away. There was a _thud_ as his bedroom door shut behind him. Panda deflated, pouting. "Or you can just walk away, fine, that works too."

"I wouldn't," Rythian warned. "The walls are pretty thin."

Sullen and tight-jawed, Panda went back to his food, stabbing at his vegetables with a childish vehemence. Lalna had hung their head, their eyes gone to the purple side of blue. Lomadia fidgeted, shaking out her wings. Nano sighed.

"Well," she said. _"That's_ put a damper on the evening."

"Whatever," Panda muttered.

* * *

 

Despite the offer to stay and play a few rounds of some video game or other, Nano and Lomadia left again pretty much as soon as dinner was over. Lalna had started cinnamon rolls, but Nano made the excuse that she was much too tired to stay, what with her horrendous first day back at work. As she and Lomadia walked back to their flat, amidst the dark and the traffic and the crickets, Lomadia nudged her.

"If you're really tired, you can just go to bed," she said. "I'll see you in the morning when I get back, anyway."

Nano shook her head. "It's not that, sweetheart," she said. "I mean, _yes,_ I'm really tired, I just—that flat is like a little _nest_ of drama, and I can't deal with it tonight."

 _"Oh,"_ said Lomadia, nodding sagely. "I guess, yeah."

"To be honest, I was surprised they were all still in one piece, us being gone for two weeks," said Nano. "I thought for sure somebody would've taken a chunk out of somebody else."

"They don't really do that anymore," said Lomadia. "I talked to Panda earlier, when he invited us to dinner. He said thing's're actually sort of okay. Rythian's like the flat mum."

"Oh, God have mercy," said Nano, rolling her eyes. "I shudder to think about _Rythian_ being the most responsible person in any room."

"When it's a room that's got Nilesy and Panda in it, it's not hard. Panda thinks Nilesy's been sneaking off to see Strife."

 _"Uuuuughhhhhh,"_ said Nano, making a horrendous face. "See? You see what I mean, about drama?"

"I dunno if it's true," said Lomadia, uncertain. "He also thinks Lalna's jealous of him spending time with Rythian, which is sort of silly because they're not even dating."

"No? I thought for sure that would've happened by now. Panda's definitely Rythian's type. Y'know, years younger and having tried to kill him at least once."

Lomadia cracked up. "You're so mean," she said.

"Like I said. If _Rythian's_ the most responsible person in the room? That room's got a problem. God, I feel so sorry for Lal, stuck in the middle of all that nonsense."

"It's probably more interesting than moving boxes," said Lomadia.

"True. I feel sorry for them on _that_ account, too. I feel like we could've got them a better job. Y'know, something that actually uses their ridiculously incredible brain."

"Why didn't we?" Lomadia asked, frowning.

Nano shrugged, sighing. "It was all about keeping them secret. And I think Strife was a bit paranoid about them being in any position of power."

"But they can hack into, like, anything ever," said Lomadia. "Or they could've worked in the labs, or helped you, like they used to."

"I think it's a case of prejudice," said Nano. "Anyway, I try to give them more interesting projects when I can. Usually it's not enough to keep them occupied for more than a few hours, but it's probably better than nothing."

"Like you gave them something to do with the murder stuff today?"

Nano winced. "Yeah, like that."

"I wasn't supposed to talk about that. Sorry."

"It's fine, sweetheart. It was just a lot of—running about, with very, _very_ few results. And it was . . . honestly? Scary. It was . . . scary."

Lomadia put her arm around Nano's shoulders and squeezed her.

"If anybody tries to murder you, I'll rip their head off," she said.

_Blood_ _gushing_ _onto the plush carpets, ears ringing,_ _the_ _clammy wrist in her hand—_

"Thanks, sweetheart," Nano managed, but her heart wasn't in it.

* * *

 

Nano wandered into the kitchen, fuzzy-headed. Lomadia was there, cooking something on the stove. The room was filled with sunlight, making her wings glow.

"Morning, sweetheart," Nano mumbled.

"I made eggs," said Lomadia. "They're not mine."

"No? Well that's good," said Nano. Her tongue was thick in her mouth, dry. She went to open the refrigerator, but decided against it after a single tug on the handle failed to get the door ajar. Instead, she reached up—and up and up, stretching her arms high above her head and standing on her very tip-toes—and took Lomadia's face in her hands. She had to lift off the ground a little to kiss her, although her balance was drunken and unsteady. She settled back onto the floor and gazed up at Lomadia.

There was nothing but fizzing black sludge between her hands. Nano staggered back, stunned, horrified. Lomadia's headless body toppled to the floor. There was water everywhere, calf-deep. The stove was burning, flames leaping out of the pan. Nano tried to run to Lomadia. The water was thick as syrup. Something twisted and purple and ugly was bobbing on its surface. Nano dragged herself to Lomadia's side. She grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Blood was pouring from the stump of her neck. Her arms were dissolving under Nano's hands like black silk.

Nano called out to her, but the words were mush. She couldn't hear her own voice. There was a sharp pain in her back, her chest, her head. The water was filling up with blood, rising, rising. Everything that was left of Lomadia had turned to gray stone. She was too heavy to lift. She would drown if Nano couldn't get her above water. Everywhere Nano touched turned to fizzing sludge. Her mouth was full of bile.

The thing in the water _moved—_

Nano sat bolt-upright in bed, drenched in sweat and panting. She stared out into the darkness of the bedroom, shivering so hard her teeth chattered. She could smell acid and burned cloth. Still, it took her nearly two minutes to work up the courage to get out of bed, lest the floor be knee-deep in water and blood.

She staggered to the bathroom and crawled into the tub. She stripped off her pajamas—ruined already—and curled up, burying her face in her knees.

The sobs started deep, but welled up like a geyser. All she could do was hug herself and rock back and forth, unable to breathe. At least Lomadia wasn't there. She wished Lomadia was there.

When the breakdown had run its course, Nano pulled herself together. She took a quick, cold shower, to rinse the slime from her skin and to shock herself awake. She gathered her ruined pajamas and the burned bedclothes and stuffed them all into a bin bag. She got another set of sheets from the closet and put them on the bed, fixing them just so. Lomadia would notice, because Lomadia noticed everything, but there was nothing that could be done about that.

At least she wasn't there. At least Nano had some time before she had to explain.

Wide awake, she crawled back into bed and waited for dawn.


	4. Chapter 3

The footage was, to put it as accurately as Lalna knew how, a _fucking problem._

They hadn't intended to continue analyzing it after the workday was over, but the more they'd looked at it the more of a _fucking_ _problem_ it had become, until they were equal parts furious and fascinated and thereby so wrapped up in the thing that it was harder to _not_ work on it than to keep going.

There were three things that they knew for sure, acting as the basis of their continuing investigations:

  1. The footage had been tampered with;
  2. The tampering had been done before, not after, the fact;
  3. Two hours of footage was missing.



Everything else, from who had done the tampering to how they'd done it, continued to elude them. They'd wanted to talk to Nano about it at the earliest opportunity, but she'd rebuffed them over dinner and left very shortly thereafter, so now they were sitting in their room, most of their sensors inactive so that they could devote more processing power to the task at hand.

They were picking through the metadata, line by line, trying to work out where the unauthorized access had originated. The issue with this was that they'd done the exact same thing literally a thousand times already, and hadn't found _any_ unauthorized access _at all._ Nor, for that matter, had they found any _authorized_ access—not the day of the murder, or the day before, or the _week_ before. They were still looking, nearly a year back now, certain that there must be something, somewhere, that had originated the splice.

And it was, they had found, a splice—prerecorded, edited to have the proper time stamp—which was how they'd figured out how much time was missing. It was exactly two hours long, beginning at 3:00 a.m. on the dot and ending at 5:00 a.m. on the dot. The precision pleased them, even if nothing else about it did. For two hours, the cameras had simply failed to save their data, because this hunk of footage was already sitting in the allotted space and refused to be overwritten. _When_ it had been placed there, however, was still unclear. They got the sneaking suspicion that they were missing something terribly obvious.

Their audio sensors, turned far down to reduce spurious input, detected a faint knocking at their door. Lalna relegated their study of the footage to the back of their mind and brought the rest of their functions back online. They got up and went to the door while their eyes took a moment to recalibrate.

When they opened the door, they saw Nilesy, wringing his hands and not looking directly at them. Their internal clock told them it was half past midnight.

"Um," said Nilesy.

"Yeah?" said Lalna. Nilesy glanced at them and immediately looked away again.

"I've been having a bit of trouble sleeping," he said. "And . . . I've looked it up and there's supposed to be meteors tonight, and I thought . . . maybe you'd want to come with me. To go out and look at them."

"Yeah, sounds good!" said Lalna. They ran a quick internet search to determine if there really was a meteor shower ongoing and discovered, to their surprise, that Nilesy was actually telling the truth. "I haven't gotten to see meteors yet. Though it looks like the Lyrids will peak day after tomorrow."

"Yeah, well, I mean," said Nilesy, shrugging. He didn't add anything to this completely meaningless statement, forcing Lalna to find a way to keep the conversation going.

"D'you want to go now?" they asked.

"Yeah, let me grab my coat," said Nilesy. He turned and headed back to his room. Lalna got their keys and locked their door, although they still doubted the utility of doing so. They could think of at least a dozen ways to bypass the lock that wouldn't even wake up their human flatmates.

Once Nilesy had his coat, the two of them headed out. There were no appropriately dark skies anywhere within thirty miles, but Nilesy requested they set up somewhere nearby anyway. Lalna effectively hid their disappointment and instead let Nilesy pick out a rooftop he liked, where the two of them would have a less obstructed view of the sky. Lalna surreptitiously hacked the building's security system so that, when Nilesy tugged on the outer stairwell door, it seemed to have been left unlocked.

"My, what fantastic luck we've got," he said, eyeing Lalna sidelong.

"Yeah," said Lalna, their face and eyes betraying nothing. Nonetheless, Nilesy winked at them before heading into the building, a gesture they assumed to mean he knew or suspected that they'd meddled. Chagrined, they followed him in.

The two of them went up six flights of stairs and encountered another locked door, although this one required a physical key. Lalna was just beginning to pare down the hundred possible solutions they'd come up with when Nilesy spoke up.

"Don't worry, I've got this one," he said.

For a moment, nothing happened, and then a trickle of water slid under the door and crawled up into the locking mechanism. Nilesy made faces for a few seconds, his tongue between his teeth, his fingers twitching, and then there was a _click_ and the door drifted open an inch.

"Hah!" Nilesy crowed, triumphant. "Got the bastard."

Lalna pushed the door open and waved Nilesy through, bowing to him. Nilesy touched his forelock with two fingers and twirled his wrist extravagantly as he went through.

There was some difficulty in finding an appropriately comfortable way to settle on the roof. It was coated in asphalt, which made Nilesy wrinkle his nose, and it was damp. Initially, Nilesy sat down and leaned back on his hands, watching the skies, and Lalna joined him in this position. Within a few minutes, however, he seemed to grow very uncomfortable, frequently rolling his shoulders and rubbing his neck. These activities caused him to miss no less than four meteors.

Eventually, Lalna just lay down on the roof and held one arm out to the side.

"You can use me as a pillow, if you want," they offered.

Nilesy regarded them for a long moment (missing another meteor), then lay back and pillowed his head on their biceps. They curled their arm in and touched his elbow, gently, with just their fingertips.

An hour passed in relative peace, with Nilesy occasionally pointing excitedly at a meteor and asking _did you see that one?_ Lalna, of course, always had. There were plenty of meteors that Nilesy didn't see. Lalna didn't try to point them out. Nilesy's reaction time wasn't good enough that he would be able to focus on the meteor before it burned up.

"It's a bit humbling, isn't it," Nilesy mused, as one hour stretched towards two. "All that . . . everything up there."

"Yeah, sort of," said Lalna.

Nilesy glanced over at them, his eyebrows raised.

"I'll bet you know everything there is to know about space," he said.

"Nah," said Lalna. "Haven't ever really looked. But I could find it out, if you want."

"Nah," said Nilesy. "I'm sure you're using that brain space for more important things."

"I've got practically unlimited storage," Lalna said. "I'm quantum."

"What's that mean?"

"Quantum computing? Never heard of it?"

"Maybe once. Sounded like a load of bollocks, you ask me. All _very_ hand-wavey."

"I could explain it."

"Could you explain it such that I'd actually understand it?"

They frowned. "I'm not sure. I could try."

"Wouldn't bother. It's probably better I don't know, anyway. You never know when someone might come along, pulling things out of my head. It's not as though telepaths are _exceptionally_ rare."

A meteor streaked down across three degrees of sky. Nilesy didn't react, and Lalna assumed he hadn't seen it. When they looked over at him, intending to speak, they noted that his attitude had changed.

He was tense, his breathing and heart-rate more rapid than normal. There were distinct markers of pain on his face. Lalna held their voice, trying to figure out what had caused the change. Just when they were coming to a conclusion, Nilesy spoke and confirmed it.

"D'you want know the last thing he said to me?" he asked, staring up at the stars. Lalna stilled, lessening their breathing routine. They also paused their scrutiny of the footage from YogLabs. "Just to me. When no one else was listening."

"Yeah," Lalna said. "But you haven't got to tell me if you don't want to."

Nilesy took a deep breath. His heart rate had increased further, and his hands were sweating.

"He said . . . he said _I love you,"_ Nilesy said, and his voice broke and his eyes filled with tears. "He said, _no matter what happens, just remember that. Remember that I love you, and I always have, and I always will."_

Lalna squeezed him, their hand gentle on his arm.

"He was lying," they said softly.

"Was he?" Nilesy asked. The tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, trickled down into his ears. "Because . . . because Xephos said the same thing, didn't he. He loved Liam no matter what. Maybe—maybe that's just what love _is._ Maybe it's all like that, in the end, and everything else is . . . something else. Not love."

"Xephos lied all the time," Lalna said. Something started volleying up blank requests, and they shut it up before it could make any significant impact. "He said he loved me, too. But he didn't treat me like he loved me. Nano says actions are always more important than words, and I think she's right. Zylus said he loved you, but he hurt you, deeply and often. That's not what people do when they love you."

"Two points make a line, sib," Nilesy murmured, choked up.

"Your results aren't statistically significant," they said. "And you're discarding a huge amount of data to reach them. _I_ love you. Panda loves you. Lomadia loves you. Rythian loves you. Nano loves you. We don't treat you like Zylus and Xephos did. I'm sure there've been other people you knew who loved you and didn't hurt you. The two examples you're drawing from are outliers, and should be excluded from the dataset."

Nilesy cracked a smile. He wiped the tears from his face and sniffled.

"Did I ever tell you about . . . Uncle Ian and Aunt Martha?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"No," said Lalna, interested.

Nilesy was silent for a time. His heart rate had not settled, but he wasn't sweating so much anymore. He curled in closer to Lalna, resting his head against their chest.

"They . . . found me," Nilesy said. His voice was quiet, fragile. "After—when I came out of the sea. I was in a state, I'll tell you what, but they took me back with them and helped me get—well, breathing again. I don't remember much, from the first . . . few days. I'd only just happened, and sometimes Liam couldn't stay in back and sometimes I couldn't stay up front, but. . . ."

He trailed off. Lalna rubbed his arm with their thumb to comfort him, patient, waiting.

"They . . . raised me," he said. "Sort of. I didn't really talk for the first couple weeks, but they didn't mind. It was Uncle Ian started calling me _Nilesy._ I don't—I don't even remember why. First day out of the ocean, and Aunt Martha said, _Well we can't just be calling him 'boy.'_ But I liked it, and I liked them, and so I kept it. _Nilesy MacKay._ They didn't know where I'd come from and they didn't ask, even when I started talking. That's where the accent came from, too, on account of I'd been listening to them for a couple weeks and I liked it better than keeping Liam's voice. They got me all set up and sent me to school and told everybody who asked that I was Aunt Martha's sister's kid. I don't—I don't think anybody believed it, because I looked fucking _nothing_ like them, but. . . . There were a few visits from child services, y'know, because they were poor _and_ Powered, and I was this perfect little normie, so far as everyone knew, and the neighbors kept trying to get me taken away because they thought—some bollocks or other. But Ian and Martha were . . . saints, or angels, or something, and it didn't matter if it was someone asking stupid questions at the grocer's or the fucking cops turning up at our door, they were always patient and always gracious and they never, _ever_ let anybody lay a hand on me."

"They sound like wonderful people," Lalna said. Whatever it was that liked to send up blank requests had gotten around their precautions and was filling up their head with nonsense. They took a quarter of a second to locate the process and shut it down.

Nilesy smiled, although there were still tears in his eyes. "They were," he said. "They really . . . really were. Dirt poor, honestly, which is how come I never got to have cake on my birthday, and I can't even _count_ the times one or both of them went without supper just so I didn't go hungry. Probably the best years of my life, if I'm honest. Seven years I spent with them. The nightmares didn't even start until I was thirteen."

"Why'd you leave?" Lalna asked.

All the air went out of Nilesy and didn't come back in. Lalna was just considering whether resuscitation would be necessary when he finally inhaled.

"There was a sort of . . . round-up," he croaked. "They never told anyone I was Powered, told me to hide it if I wanted to stay safe, and I did, because I already knew . . . what happens. What'd happened to Liam. But they—they were Registered, both of them. And it was . . . pretty obvious, just looking at them. It happened while I was at school. I came home and they were just . . . gone. Just _gone._ Just an empty house and no note or anything. They told us about the camps next morning, in class. I waited about for . . . I don't know how long. Nearly half a year, I think. Trying to figure out where they'd been taken. And I did find out. And I went looking. And they were already dead. Both of them. They'd tried to escape, to come—to come back for me, and. . . ."

Lalna's interpersonal software flung up so many tangled emotions that they had to completely abandon their lifelike movement procedure to get it under control. They did manage to keep their eyes the appropriate color, although it was a struggle. There was much more anger in that mess than they were comfortable demonstrating.

"I left, after that," said Nilesy. "Took the names they'd given me and all the cash in the safe and got out before I died, too. Found a place out in the country. Got a little job at a corner store to afford food. Shacked up with . . . a few other people. That didn't last awfully long, either, but, ahah. Different story. Different time."

"I'm sorry," Lalna murmured.

"I was fifteen," Nilesy said, his voice scarcely more than a whisper.

Lalna squeezed him again, holding him close against their side. He sniffled and clutched their shirt. He was still looking up at the stars, even though tears were crawling down his face.

"Thank you," Lalna said at last.

Nilesy shook his head. "No, no, I've gone and talked your ear off. I didn't mean to."

"Both of my ears are still attached," Lalna said. "I know, I've got sensors."

He snorted, and Lalna took a measure of pride from his amusement. They had intended to amuse him. He made no further response, however, and another half hour passed without conversation. Lalna didn't mind. Now that they'd stopped looking at Nano's project, they found they actually enjoyed having a break from it. It was nice, just being here, under the stars with their brother. It was nice to just exist.

"Sib?" Nilesy said at last.

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to live forever?"

"No," said Lalna, puzzled. There was more they could have said on the subject, but Nilesy was already speaking again, so they suppressed both the information and the emotions that compelled them to relay it.

"Are you going to live longer than _me?"_ he pressed.

"Maybe," said Lalna. "There's loads of variables on that one. Why?"

Nilesy hesitated before he answered.

"There's _some_ things in my head," he said, "that I'd like to keep in my head. Just there. With no one else knowing about them at all."

"Secrets," Lalna translated.

Nilesy snorted again. He nudged Lalna with his head.

"Yeah," he said. "Sounds about right. I like keeping secrets. Don't s'pose you'd know what that's like, hah."

"No," they lied, "not at all."

* * *

 

It turned out that the conversation with Nilesy was precisely the tool Lalna had needed to crack the mystery of the altered footage. It took some time to integrate it, parse through the connotations and implications, which things Lalna mostly did while they were in sleep mode. After watching the meteor shower for another hour or so, the two of them had gone home and Nilesy had gone to sleep. Lalna, too, had dropped into sleep mode, because power conservation was now prioritized. In the morning, they woke up scarcely twenty minutes before their shift began, hopped a train to the warehouse where they moved crates about all day, and opened up the footage again. It took less than thirty seconds of effort to figure out why it was such a fucking problem.

They put those operations on hold, because they could now see how thoroughly useless they were, and called Nano.

 _"Dr. Sounds, YogLabs Section L, how can I help you?"_ she said, groggy.

"Hi," Lalna said—or rather, caused Nano's phone to say by sending a series of digital impulses to it. They did not speak aloud. "Somebody knew I'd look at your edited footage. I know because they put something in the code to make me not read some bits. I can't disobey, so I've got to send it back to you so you can fix it. It's in your email now. I just sent it."

There was a moment of silence. Lalna rolled their eyes as a concession to their frustration. Organic people were so _inexplicably_ slow sometimes. Lalna was sure it had something to do with diurnal cycles, although they hadn't managed to find an appropriate solution. Coffee was only sometimes successful in regenerating their processing speeds.

 _"Oh,"_ said Nano. _"Um. That's . . . really, seriously concerning. Do you know who?"_

"No," said Lalna, unable to mask the frustration even in their remotely generated voice. "I just told you, I can't look at it."

 _"Right. Sorry. Right."_ They heard a mouse clicking. _"So . . . what am I looking for, exactly? What's this bit of code that's making you miss stuff?"_

"I don't _know,"_ said Lalna, their patience wearing very thin indeed. "I can't _see_ it."

 _"Any guidelines?"_ Nano asked. She, too, was doing a poor job of masking her frustration.

"If that's what you wanted, you should've asked for it in the first place," said Lalna. "It's probably a priority command. It's written to be integrated with my own code so I won't notice I'm reading it. It should start with _L41_bscvrd_cmd_X_priority_ and then go into subfunctions. That's how I'd do it, anyway."

Keys clacking. _"And once I find this thing, what d'you want me to do with it?"_

"Delete that phrase," said Lalna. "Just that phrase. So I'll be able to see everything they didn't want me to see. It doesn't matter if the footage still works or not, that's not the important bit."

 _"Gotcha,"_ said Nano. Another few clacks. _"I found eight of them."_

"They come in pairs," Lalna said helpfully. "One to make me stop reading and one to make me start again. You've got to get both."

 _"I know, Lal, I have got a degree in this,"_ Nano sighed. More keystrokes. _"There, done. Should I just send it back?"_

"Yes, please," said Lalna.

There was a pause, longer than Lalna would have liked, and then an email from Nano popped up in their inbox. Lalna opened it and leapt right back into the corrected file, alight with vicious enthusiasm. Now, finally, that fucking problem of a file would be solved and they could get at the bastard who'd played around with their brains. . . .

 _"There, sent,"_ Nano said. _"I really appreciate you taking care of th—"_

 **fn.priority_reset//  
** **X_priority = [1]//  
** **5_priority = [0]//  
** **fn.end//  
** **L41_bscvrd_cmd_5_priority//  
** **fn.sys_preserve//  
** **STOP.rpd//**

 _ERR_840429//_  
_L41_bscvrd_cmd_X_priority//_  
_fn.sys_preserve//_  
_RUN.rpd//_  
_fatal.exception_priority.override//_

**fn.powercore_manual.setup//  
** **RUN.rpd//  
** **fn.powercore_rev%8000//**

_fn.end//_  
_fatal.exception_priority.override//_  
_coretemp.CAUTION//_  
_SHUTDOWN.rpd//_  
_ERR_303320//_  
_coretemp.WARNING//_  
_fn.powercore_rev%0//_  
_ERR_303320//_  
_coretemp.DANGER//_  


**L41_bscvrd_cmd_5_priority//  
** **"You lose."//  
**


	5. Chapter 4

Fox watched Rythian, and Rythian watched Fox. Xe twirled xyr nightstick with a casual flick of the wrist and smirked at him.

"Come on, then," xe said.

Rythian watched xyr feet, xyr hips, xyr shoulders, waiting for any shift of body weight. Red wire poked out from under xyr black tanktop.

"After you," he said.

"You'd better not be pulling any chivalry with me," Fox warned, a glint in xyr eye.

"Never," said Rythian.

Fox's leg twitched and Rythian pivoted. Instead of a kick, the nightstick flicked towards his head. He threw up an arm and caught the strike. Pain shot through his forearm. He grabbed for the stick and missed. With the same momentum, he struck for Fox's chest with his other hand. Xe twitched xyr shoulders and the punch missed. The stick came up again and caught him under the jaw, clacking his teeth together. Fox's arm snapped back before Rythian could grab it. He kicked out and the blade of his foot struck xem in the shin.

 _Crack!_ The nightstick came down on his temple and laid him out flat, and then Fox's foot was on his throat. The thick rubber sole of xyr boot was pressing patterns into his skin, the copper plate in the heel hanging off the side.

"Dead," Fox said, smirking at him.

Rythian clenched his aching jaw and focused on that special little point just above his diaphragm.

For an instant, the world snapped shut around him like a pair of hands swatting a mosquito, and there was pain and dislocation and more pressure than he could bear, and then he was standing behind Fox with a hand reaching out to touch xem.

Unfortunately, he'd no sooner appeared than the dizziness from two successive hits to the head caught him and he crumpled, seeing sparks.

"Right idea," Fox remarked. "Should've done it thirty seconds ago, though."

"Fuck you," Rythian wheezed. His body was cold, his internal dynamo working harder now as it tried to replenish his charge.

 _"That's_ unprofessional. Besides, you're not my type."

Rythian choked down a wave of nausea. His knees were jelly. He could feel a goose egg already forming on his temple. It was a wonder xe hadn't cracked any of his teeth. Fox hit _hard._

 _"Up_ you get," Fox said, grabbing him by the biceps and hoisting him to his feet. Xe dusted him off, then stepped back and folded xyr arms, regarding him critically. "Honestly. You're such a little bitch."

"I think I'm concussed," said Rythian.

Fox held up a finger and moved it about in front of Rythian's face, watching his eyes as they followed it.

"Nope," xe said. "You're just a little bitch. Honestly I don't know why I bother with the stupid wires. I've got this great big target on my back and in four months you've hit it twice."

"That's twice you'd be dead, if you hadn't been wearing it," Rythian grumbled. His teeth were trying to chatter, and he'd broken out in goosebumps. The physical heat of his body, even after strenuous exertion, didn't seem to be enough to keep him warm without his voltage.

Xe snorted. "Maybe I'd rather be. It'd be less frustrating than trying to knock it into your thick head to _use your fucking Powers!"_

To emphasize xyr point, xe tapped the top of his head repeatedly with the nightstick. He flinched each time.

"Ow-ow-ow—stop it!" He swatted at xem, and xe deftly avoided his flailing hands.

"If I had your Powers, I tell you what, I'd be un-fucking-stoppable," Fox said. "They're wasted on you. Dummy."

"I get _one_ shot every forty-five minutes," he snapped. "I _just_ don't want to _waste_ it."

"Pretty wasteful if you _die_ before you can pop one off, innit," Fox drawled. "We've been through this a _zillion_ times. Stubborn idiot."

"Are you just—going to keep calling me names at the end of _everything_ you say? Is this like—like _punctuation_ for you?"

"I'll call you all the names I want until you _actually_ manage to beat me. Useless lump."

"Fine," Rythian growled. "Let's try again in forty minutes."

Fox grinned. "Naughty boy, you're going all edgy on me."

Rythian ground his teeth. He managed not to say anything or attempt to throttle Fox, both of which would have ended badly. For him.

"While we wait," Fox said, "ten laps!"

Rythian sagged, already exhausted just thinking about it. "That's going to take more than forty minutes!" he complained.

Xe twirled the nightstick, grinning. "Then run faster, bitch!"

Growling invectives under his breath, Rythian set off at a brisk jog into the training course ringing the sparring room floor. His head pounded with every step, making his vision blur. Fox shouted sarcastic taunts at him, clearly enjoying xemself.

The training course was grueling, likely lifted straight out of military boot camp, although after running it three to five times a week for four months he _had_ gotten pretty good at it. He was at least _better_ now—when Fox had put him through it the first time, it had taken him twenty minutes a lap and he'd ended up throwing up on the floor because Fox wouldn't let him stop until he had. It was a lot easier going these days, but Fox always wanted better lap times, or more successive runs, or would make him run the whole thing with one hand tied behind his back—there was always something, and he rarely came out of it with no new bruises or abrasions. The track was fairly extensive, and on a good day he could finish it in five minutes, if he didn't get caught up on the net climb. The fucking net climb always got him.

After five repetitions of the course, Fox joined him. He could keep up better now, but xe still beat him handily. By the time he was done with all ten runs, he was drenched in sweat, his arms and legs aching. He felt like his fingers were going to curl up and fall off. His head was absolutely _pounding._ The spots where Fox had hit him felt swollen enough to burst.

"Right then," said Fox, sinking into xyr stance, barely out of breath. "Come on, bitch. Let's have another go."

He was tired, and he was frustrated, and he was in pain, and he was just so fucking _done_ with this whole session that he didn't even bother trying to banter. Fox grinned at him and twirled the nightstick.

"Well?" xe taunted. "What're you waiting for _this_ t—"

The darkness clapped down, and Rythian focused as hard as he could, and _this_ time he popped back out five inches behind Fox, looking down on xyr sweat-slick brown hair. The dizziness and nausea and pain hit him hard, but he fought them off.

He placed his palm against the center of Fox's back. There was a loud _crack_ and the floor beneath xyr feet spat sparks.

"Dead," Rythian said softly.

Fox elbowed him in the chest, not hard, and he took his hand off xyr back and stepped away. The chill was sinking into his bones again, frost and exhaustion, making him rusty and slow.

"I am _not,"_ Fox protested, pirouetting to glare at him and fold xyr arms. "You've just blown your load teleporting."

"It's—it's not the volts that kill you," he said, choking down embarrassment along with his nausea. Fox had a way with words.

Xe stuck out xyr lip, making an ugly face, then rolled xyr eyes and threw up xyr hands.

 _"Fine,_ you win this one," xe said, exasperated. "Good job. That's how you do it. Don't get smug."

"I would never," said Rythian, although he already had. Fox glowered at him.

"Two miles on the track outside," xe said. "For being smug. Then I guess you can go home."

Rythian went without a word of complaint. The biggest lesson Fox had taught him so far was when not to push his luck.

* * *

 

While Rythian was stretching out after his cool-down run, Fox came over and dropped xemself on the ground next to him, leaning back on xyr hands.

 _"Soooo,"_ xe said, "I've just got off the phone with Mr. Strife."

Rythian raised an eyebrow. His cheek was resting on his knee, both hands clasped around the arch of his foot.

"Oh?" he said.

"I've told him you're getting better and he wants to give you some real-world experience. He's got a _function_ this weekend. He wants you on the team."

Rythian switched legs, folding himself over slowly so as not to strain anything.

"Seems a little . . . premature," he said.

"You're telling me," Fox grumbled.

"What's the function?"

"It's a banquet. Something about the PRA, which _I've_ never heard of."

Rythian sat up, adjusted the positioning of his legs, and folded over again to stretch out a different muscle group.

"The Powered Rights Association? They're the second-largest Powered activism group in the country," he said.

"Are they? Huh. Would've thought he'd go for the biggest, the fuckin' size-queen. _Anyway._ You'll have to do some specific on-site training beforehand. Intensive. Because you're not anywhere near ready for actual work."

"Did he say why me?"

"No, but I can take a guess."

"So can I," Rythian said darkly.

"It's 'cause he wants to look good," Fox said. Xe affected a truly horrendous American accent and drawled, _"Waah, lookit me, I'm Strife, I hire loads of Powered people, don't you want to give me a nice shiny medal?_ Twat."

"It's because he's scared of all the other Powered people that will be in the room," Rythian said. He sat up again and shook out his legs. "It's the same principle as the Division. The more things change, right?"

"Ohhhh," said Fox, wincing. "Yeah, hadn't thought of that. Still. Strife says you're going, so you're going, and I've got to train you for it."

Rythian heaved himself to his feet and started stretching out his arms, which were little more than bundles of noodles after the session. Painful, stiff noodles.

"Fine," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Are we meeting there or here?"

"Here," said Fox. "I don't trust you not to get lost. And you'll still have all the regular training beforehand, we'll just go longer than usual."

Rythian groaned. Fox wrinkled xyr nose at him.

"Such is the life of a bodyguard!" xe opined. "Get used to it."

"I could be homeless again," Rythian muttered to himself. "At least the people were nice."

"Aww, poor Rythie, is Fox a big ol' meanie to you?" Fox asked, pouting.

"I could _kill_ you, in an _instant,"_ he said primly.

Fox snorted. "Clearly you can't," xe said.

 _"You—_ have no idea! The-the-the _awesome_ powers at my command, the—the—"

"Go on," xe interrupted, amused.

"I was going to!"

"Good, let's hear it then."

"No. You know what? No! You don't deserve to know."

"Little bitch."

Rythian turned his nose up and ignored xem as hard as he could. After making some disappointed, patronizing noises, Fox went ahead and started stretching, too. Xe was still in the middle of it when Rythian got done, and he went over to the cubbies on the edge of the sparring room where he'd put his bag. He took out his phone and his other pair of shoes. The phone had been specially designed for him, with a highly insulating casing that allowed him to handle it without wearing gloves. There was a voicemail, which Rythian set to playing while he changed shoes. He put the phone down, waiting for the voicemail to connect. The cool-voiced, robotic mail-keeper introduced itself in the usual choppy manner.

_"You have— **one** —unheard message. **First—** unheard message."_

_"Rythian, it's Nano,"_ the message began, and he knew from the first syllable that disaster had struck. _"Something's happened to Lal. I'm going to check on them at the warehouse. Call me when you get this. Bye."_

_"To repeat this message, press **one.** To—"_

Cursing under his breath, Rythian hung up on the voicemail and called Nano. He leapt to his feet and started pacing, too agitated to sit still.

"What's going on?" Fox asked. Rythian waved xem off irritably, not wanting to miss a single syllable out of Nano's mouth.

The phone rang an approximately _infinite_ number of times before she picked up.

 _"They're alive,"_ she said, without preamble.

"What happened?" he demanded. "Where are you?"

Not _okay,_ not _fine,_ not _undamaged._ Just _alive._

 _"One: I'm not sure, and two: I'm. . . ."_ She hesitated, took a deep breath, then continued. _"We're down in one of the old SLIP labs. It was the only place that had the right tools. Lal's not happy about it, but we're managing."_

So they were alive enough to be unhappy, at least.

"I'm on my way," Rythian said, hurrying back to his bag and stuffing his training shoes in it. "Make sure they'll let me in."

_"Rythian, I don't know if that's a good idea."_

"You can tell them to let me in," he said, hoisting up his bag, "or I can make a hole."

"Oh, snap," Fox remarked.

Nano sighed. _"For God's sake. I'll let them know you're on the way. Don't do anything dramatic. Please."_

"I won't," said Rythian, and hung up. Fox sprang to xyr feet as he stalked away.

"Oy, what's happened?" xe asked.

"My partner's hurt," he said.

"Oh _fuck,"_ said Fox. "They're over in that new warehouse, right?"

"YogLabs," said Rythian.

There was a jingling, and then Fox caught him by the arm and pressed something hard and pointy against his chest, keeping pace with him as xe did.

"Take my car," xe said. "I can take the train."

Rythian took the keys from xyr hand and xe let him go.

"Thanks," he said shortly. Though he was exhausted and sore and shaky, he ran all the way to the car park anyway.

* * *

 

By some sort of miracle, Rythian managed to make it to YogLabs without being pulled over or crashing into anything. He parked on the street and scaled the electric fence, because he couldn't be bothered to go through the rigmarole of trying to get in through the front gate. So long as he jumped up onto the fence and kept two points of contact at all times, it couldn't hurt him, although it did make his hands and feet tingle. He got the feeling that if somebody any less electrically inclined had attempted it, things wouldn't have gone so well.

The razor-wire on top presented slightly more difficulty, but he managed to get over it with only minor lacerations. This area of YogLabs was mostly scattered trees and short grass, undoubtedly hiding something sinister underground, so he had little fear of being seen. As he dropped down on the inside of the fence, however, he heard someone yell out.

 _"Oy!_ Oy, you there, freeze!"

Rythian turned his head sharply and spotted a trio of guards hurrying towards him out of the trees. Their uniforms were white, their boots were black. One of them was pulling a weapon. Rythian started for them like a thunderstorm.

"I said _freeze!"_ the one in front shouted. They pulled out their weapon—gun-like, but not a gun, with a big yellow square on the front—and pointed it at Rythian.

"Oh, _really,"_ Rythian snarled, still advancing. An arc of lightning leapt from his shoulder into a tree and blew the bark off it with a sound like breaking bone. "Oh, you're going to _tase_ me. Why don't you try that out? Why don't we _see how that goes."_

The guard was backing away now, tripping over their own feet because their eyes were fixed on Rythian. The others had made themselves very scarce indeed.

"You c-can't b-b-be here," the guard stammered. White was showing all the way around their eyes. Another huge arc leapt to one of the trees, blasting out smoldering pine needles like a firework.

 _"Move,"_ Rythian growled.

There was a pyrotechnic flash and two things happened simultaneously.

A pair of wasps stung Rythian in the chest, and the guard's taser exploded.

The guard cried out in pain, dropping to the ground. Rythian snarled and ripped the wires out of the taser prongs. The metal bits stayed sunk in his shirt, pricking his chest. There was blood on the guard's hand. Rythian stepped over them and dropped the wires on them as he went. His chest was tingling, like maybe his blood was flowing the wrong way there. The feeling went away quickly.

By the time he made it to the main building, there were a _lot_ more guards. Sirens were going off. He spotted at least two YLPIDs, neither of whom he knew personally.

He considered that, perhaps, he had made something approaching a mistake.

Slowly, he came to a stop and raised his hands. Physically kicking himself might have come too close to a _sudden move_ for the comfort of the people with the weaponry, but he was certainly doing it internally. His rage had run down and left him worn and exhausted. As worried as he was about Lalna, it probably would have been more expedient to just follow the rules.

"My visitor's pass is in my pocket," he called, as the two YLPIDs approached. There were arcs of electricity climbing up between his raised hands, like a Jacob's ladder. He couldn't help it. It was humid out.

"Get on the ground!" one of the YLPIDs shouted, a distinct crack of puberty in their voice.

"Christ, how _old_ are you?" Rythian asked. "Seventeen?"

 _"Get_ on the _ground!"_ the other roared. Rythian rolled his eyes and knelt down, slowly. The two YLPIDs approached like dogs trying to get at a snake—like they were trying to be closer to him than he was to them. One was olive-skinned and stocky and curly-haired, probably not much older than Rythian. The other was fat and Black and gawky, fiddling with their bright blue dreadlocks as they sidled up.

"If you're going to grab me, use two hands," Rythian said. His arms were shaking. The morning's training session was really catching up with him. He wondered, idly, if he could just teleport twenty feet straight down and make it to Lalna quicker. _"Also,_ if you hurt me, your boss is going to be _really_ upset with you. Technically your boss's girlfriend, but it will probably carry over."

"That's enough," said the short one.

"My visitor's pass is in my pocket," he said again, somewhat hopelessly. "I really don't want to start a fight."

"Good, then don't resist," said the short one. Rythian held still while they sidled up and let them grab his wrists. Their grip was crushing, and the strength with which they pinned his arms behind his back and shoved him face-down into the dirt was sobering. The two taser prongs stabbed him in the chest, and he wished he'd taken half a minute to pull them out.

"This really isn't necessary," he said, while his respirator dug into his face.

"Cuff him," the YLPID holding him said.

"Super effective," Rythian muttered, although there was a terror weaving through his chest.

He couldn't go back. He wouldn't go back. Not again. Not ever again.

The relief that flooded through him when a plastic ziptie cinched tight around his wrists was palpable. The YLPID very literally picked him up and set him on his feet, which was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Jane, let Detention know we're bringing him in," they said, and Rythian's heart stopped.

Not again. Never again. His fists clenched. The torsion on his already-sore arms was excruciating. The twin scars in his abdomen ached. He had enough voltage to teleport, but he only got one shot, and he _couldn't_ waste it. He could make it five hundred feet at most. Best to put a fence between him and the YLPIDs and hope neither of them could fly. He was exhausted, there was no way he could fight or run, he'd just have to hope he could get underground. . . .

_"Oy!"_

The familiar voice cut through Rythian's desperate machinations like hot wire, snapping him back into the present. He looked up and saw a tiny figure barging through the crowd, brandishing an umbrella.

"Oh for _fuck's_ sake," said the YLPID holding Rythian.

"Oy, you two! Clear off!" Nano shouted, storming across the distance between the main building and the three of them.

"But, ma'am—" Jane began.

Nano strode right up to them and stuck the umbrella under Jane's chin like it had two barrels and a trigger. Jane raised their hands.

 _"I_ will deal with this idiot," Nano said. _"You_ will go explain to all _those_ idiots—" she gestured to the assembled guards— "that _this_ idiot is not a threat, just an _idiot."_

"Thanks," Rythian said dryly. Nano glared at him and he resolved not to say anything else.

"Dr. Sounds, with all due respect, he broke in and assaulted one of our security personnel," said the YLPID holding Rythian.

"Thank you," Nano said, strained, "for letting me know. I'll talk that over with Chrissa. In the _mean time,_ you can release this dangerous, stupid idiot into _my_ custody, thank you very much!"

"Ma'am—"

"Alexa!" Nano interrupted sharply. "I have had an _extremely_ trying morning, and you are _not helping!_ If you would be so kind as to _not_ make my life more difficult, and to just stop _arguing_ with me, we can all get on with our lives!"

Nano stopped, put a hand to her head, and winced.

"Oh dear God, I sound like Xephos," she muttered. "Alexa, Jane, thank you, so much, for being on the ball with this, and I'm sorry this happened. This person, right here, is Rythian, and he's a friend of mine. With whom, in fact, I will be having a very _serious_ talk about _how to properly enter the premises._ There's going to be an awful lot of paperwork, and I have some very, _very_ time-sensitive things going on downstairs, and Rythian is here to help me. So can I please take him off your hands, and we'll deal with this in proper red-tape format as always."

Alexa and Jane shared a glance. Jane shrugged. Alexa gritted their teeth and rolled their eyes. They shoved Rythian towards Nano and raised their hands.

"He's all yours," they said. "C'mon, Jane."

"All right," said Jane, glancing between Nano and Rythian as they trailed off after Alexa. The crowds of security guards were starting to disperse. Someone had turned off the sirens and flashing lights.

"Um," said Rythian.

"Turn around," Nano said, exasperated. Rythian did so, and in short order the ziptie came loose with only a faint scent of acid.

"Thanks," he said, rubbing his wrists. "Um. I didn't—"

Nano's umbrella came down hard on his arm. He yelped and ducked, throwing up his hands to protect his face.

 _"I! Told! You! Not_ to be _dramatic!"_ Nano cried through gritted teeth, whacking him repeatedly with her umbrella.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow—stop it, _stop it!"_ he said, flinching, while a hand clenched around his heart and tension ratcheted up his spine.

 _"What_ were you thinking! _Were_ you thinking? _It's_ a _mystery!"_ she went on, hitting him four more times.

He caught the umbrella in a grip so tight he felt something snap under his hand. He wrenched it out of Nano's grasp as the tension in his spine drew him up to his full height. Something went _zzzap!_

"Stop it," he said.

For an instant, the look on Nano's face was nothing short of _frightened._ Rythian's anger evaporated immediately and he shrunk down, sheepish, turning away from her and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry," he said. "Sorry, it's just that—sorry. You're right." He looked down at the umbrella and gingerly handed it back to her. "I might have . . . broken that. I'm sorry."

Nano snatched the umbrella back from him and heaved a sigh.

"It's _fine,"_ she said. "Come on. I've had to leave Lal down there alone and I can't imagine it's _pleasant_ for them. I heard the sirens and just _knew_ it must've been you."

She turned and started back towards the main building, and Rythian followed meekly. She led him inside, flashing her pass at the front desk and waving off their questions about the incident outside. They went down an elevator into the basement, six floors deep. Rythian finagled the taser prongs out of his shirt on the way down. Nano strode out the moment the doors opened and Rythian could only tag along, although he appreciated her haste.

"Would you mind telling me," Nano said, as she hurried through the cold, white corridors, _"why_ you found it necessary to attack one of our security guards?"

"I didn't," said Rythian. "They tried to tase me and it . . . went about as well as you would expect."

"And _why_ were they trying to tase you?"

"I . . . might have hopped the fence," he mumbled.

"We've got _front doors,_ Rythian! You can use them! That's why you've _got_ a visitor's pass! For God's sake! D'you have any _idea_ how much paperwork this is going to make? You're here on _my_ stewardship, and now there's _medical bills_ involved—why can't you just use the front door? Why can't you just _walk in_ like a _normal fucking person?"_

"Sorry."

Nano took a deep breath and shut her eyes, bringing one hand down slowly as she exhaled. The other was still holding the umbrella.

"I know you are," she said, more calmly. "Thank you. Next time, please, just use the front door? Please?"

"Yes, I—yes," said Rythian. "I will . . . do that. Sorry." He cleared his throat, then asked, "Is—is Lalna . . . okay?"

Nano shook her head, her face pinched, and Rythian's insides all froze solid.

"I still don't know exactly what happened," she said. "But I'll warn you: it's not pretty."

He swallowed, nodding, trying to find some way to brace himself. They were alive; that was a good start.

"Is it—fixable?" he asked, dread and hope filling him equally.

"Yeah, probably," Nano sighed. "But it's going to take a while."

She stopped at an unremarkable set of double doors that had the letters _S. L. I. P._ emblazoned on them.

"They're in here," she said. "Just—try not to freak out? Please? There's loads of sensitive electronics in there, and I can't have you blowing them up."

"I'll try," Rythian promised.

"S'pose that'll have to do," she said. She swiped her keycard, entered a code, and opened the doors. She stepped in first and held the door for Rythian.

The room was large, and cold, and messy. There were towers of computers, dangling loops of wires and cables, steel gurneys, some kind of large metal throne, all sorts of tools and screens and instruments. The whole place smelled of silicon and burnt dust.

Lalna was lying on an operating table in the center of the room. Their entire torso was a charred ruin.

"Oh _Christ,"_ Rythian cried, his voice cracking. Lalna lifted their head, looking at him over the blackened and hollow mess. Their eyes were dark, but flickered sporadically with green.

"Hiya, Rythian," they said.

Rythian hurried to their side, holding his hands at his chest for fear that he would touch something uninsulated. Lalna let their head fall back onto the table, keeping their eyes on him. There was a huge hole in their chest, melted clean through their fleshy insulation, exposing wires and tubes and metal chassis. Strings of blackened plastic criss-crossed the hollow spaces. Something white and cylindrical and glowing sat in the center of the mess. The metal around it was distorted, discolored, although the thing itself seemed unmarked.

"Christ, what—what _happened_ to you?" Rythian asked. "Who _did_ this?"

"Well," said Lalna, "I'm not completely sure. I was working on the footage Nano szsent me, but there wa-wa-wazszsz a _kkhhhehhhrrrh—"_

"Don't! Don't do that, stop it!" Nano said, hurrying over as Lalna began to twitch and spark, their eyes flickering wildly. The glowing thing in the center of them brightened until it was almost blinding. Rythian backed up a step, terrified and powerless to help. Lalna settled, a few residual sparks spitting from the gaping hole in their torso. The cylinder dimmed back to its original state.

"Szsorry," they said to Rythian. "Looks like I still can-an-an't talk about it."

Rythian looked to Nano, so distressed he couldn't breathe properly. She was putting on blue rubber gloves and a pair of too-large plastic goggles. She shrugged into a lab coat and came back over to Lalna.

"They've been like that since they woke up," Nano said. "The best I can figure is that whoever tampered with the security footage from the murder put something extra in there to sabotage Lal. For _after_ they'd figured out that they'd been made to miss things."

"Really I should've seen it coming," Lalna said.

"Whatever it was made their power core overheat," Nano said, pointing to the white cylinder. "They're lucky to be alive, honestly, and I'm not _entirely_ sure how they've managed it."

"I wish I could tell you," Lalna said. "Anytime I try to access anything from during the attack, I go all staticky and start overheating again. It's super frustrating."

"What—okay, um, what can I do to help?" said Rythian, who was lost and, somehow, _more_ worried than he had been before.

"You can grab a pair of tweezers and help me pick all this shit out of here," Nano said. "I can't repair anything until it's cleaned up, and it's already taken half the morning to get them to where they are now."

"Is that—safe?" Rythian asked, looking down at all the exposed metal and wiring, wringing his hands.

"If you've got your rubber gloves on you, those'll work," Lalna said helpfully. "Just don't touch my power core."

"I—yes, I think I have those," Rythian said, patting down his pockets. He sagged, hanging his head, as he remembered where. "In . . . my bag. Which is in Fox's car. Which is parked outside the fence."

"For God's sake, Rythian," Nano sighed.

"I'll just—" he began, making overtures towards the door.

"No, no, I'm sure there's electrical gloves in here somewhere," Nano said. "Check the cabinets in the back."

She pulled up a rolling chair next to the surgery table and bent over Lalna's chest. Carefully, she extracted a crispy strand of burnt plastic from inside them and dropped it into a bucket near her feet. Rythian edged back to the cabinets, being extra-careful not to touch anything in case it happened to be connected to delicate electronics. After some hunting, he managed to find a pair of thick rubber gloves. He tugged them on and returned to Lalna. Nano gave him a pair of tweezers.

"Try not to touch anything but the plastic," she said.

Rythian looked down at the mess inside Lalna's chest. He swallowed. His hands were shaking, his arms weak, his fingers stiff and sore.

"Christ," he muttered, and set about his work.


	6. Chapter 5

Within an hour, Nano had sent Rythian away to go get something to eat. His hands were shaking so hard that he'd dropped his tweezers four times in the last fifteen minutes, and Nano kept having to fish them out for him. She'd clipped his visitor's pass to his lapel and shooed him out of the room, fussing at him the whole way. When he'd gone, the smell of stale sweat and ozone lingered after him. Nano went back to her lab chair and sank into it, sighing.

"He was _trying_ to help," Lalna said generously.

"I was worried he was going to touch something wrong and zap you," Nano said. She cracked her back, picked up her tweezers, and bent over Lalna again. Some headway had been made in the past hour, but not as much as she would have liked.

"That's fair," said Lalna. "Did he kill anyone coming in?"

"Did—no, Lalna," said Nano, shaking her head. "Apparently he jumped the fence and somebody tried to tase him and it didn't go particularly well."

"Really?" said Lalna, lifting their head. A couple of the exposed tubes in their chest wiggled as hydraulic fluid moved through them. "I'd always sort of wondered what'd happen if somebody did that."

"Well, you can ask him all about it later," said Nano. She shifted in her chair and rubbed her eye with her wrist. The strain of all this delicate work was taking its toll, especially having to compensate for her lack of depth perception.

"I did think about experimenting," Lalna said.

Nano stopped, blinking, and looked at them.

"On Rythian?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"With _tasers?"_

"Yeah." They frowned. "You're making that face again."

"No, sorry, I'm just a _tiny_ bit disturbed to hear you've been thinking about tasing your boyfriend for science."

"I would've asked first," said Lalna, pouting.

"I'd _hope_ so!"

"Look, I haven't _done_ it, why're you upset?"

"I— _ugh,"_ said Nano, shaking herself and getting back to work. "It's just—it's _cold,_ Lal. It's awfully cold."

"It's only data," said Lalna. "I was only curious. And I _haven't_ done it. I haven't even asked."

"Well, I'd advise you not to," said Nano. She extracted a clump of melted plastic from Lalna's chest and dropped it in the bucket. "He might not take it very well."

"Why not?"

Nano bit back her instinctive, snappish retort. She pulled another bit of gunk from Lalna's chest.

"I'm not completely sure what they did to him, when they had him here," she said. "I haven't asked and I don't think I should, but—there's a chance it involved a lot of tasers. And it _definitely_ involved experimentation. So, he might be just a _tad_ bit sensitive about it."

"Oh," said Lalna. "Yeah, that makes sense. I haven't really asked him about it. I did once, and he didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't ask again. I figure if he wants to talk about it, he will."

"That's very reasonable," said Nano. She picked a few more pieces out, chewing her cheeks. "Lal?"

"Yeah?"

"You haven't—thought about experimenting on the _rest_ of us," she said. "Have you?"

"No," said Lalna. "Why?"

"Just . . . morbid curiosity," she said. "Don't start."

"Not even if they're harmless experiments?"

"I'm not sure there's such a thing."

"Sure there is," said Lalna. "Nobody got hurt when I worked out Panda's top speed. He thought it was fun. Or when Nilesy and me were playing with mud to figure how much water something had to have in it for him to control it. Or when I got Lom's hearing threshold by—"

Nano threw down her tweezers and rounded on them.

"You _have_ been experimenting on us!" she snarled.

Lalna balked, their eyes flashing white for an instant before going dark again. Guilt wrapped slimy tendrils around Nano's stomach and she rubbed her face, grinding her teeth and taking a deep breath.

"Sorry," she said. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

"I haven't hurt anyone," Lalna said, their voice mousy. "I haven't even made anybody uncomfortable. I was just curious. They wanted to find out, too."

"And what have you found out about _me?"_ Nano asked, her voice high and shaking.

"Nothing," said Lalna. "You never wanted to participate when I offered."

"Really? And you haven't _picked anything up?_ Just by passive observation?"

"You're really angry with me," they said. "But I _haven't_ done anything wrong!"

"Your _friends,_ Lalna, are not _science experiments,"_ Nano said.

"I know! I haven't—"

"Let me finish, please," she interrupted pertly. "Now, if you've asked them if they want to be part of your experiments, and they've said yes—you know, _informed consent—_ then that's fine. But if you've been doing what I _think_ you've been doing, which is _lying_ to them about why you're doing this stuff—"

"I _haven't!"_ they whined. "I wasn't experimenting _on_ anyone. I was experimenting _with_ them! I told them I was curious about it and asked if they wanted to help, and they all said yes!"

"Why d'you want to know this stuff, Lalna?" she asked. "What's the point?"

"I dunno, I'm bored," they said. "I like knowing stuff about my friends. Why're you so upset? Why're you acting like I've hurt someone?"

Again, Nano stopped herself and took a deep breath. She got out of her chair and picked up her tweezers, then sat back down again. She found that she was shaking.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I'm just . . . _worried_ about you. I'm worried about all of us. It's like—for the past six months, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Lom thinks it already has, but, God, with us? There's always another shoe. And I've got no idea where it's going to come from, or when, and it scares me. I mean, between the murder and the old NB going missing—"

_"What?"_

Nano looked up at them. If their eyes had turned a different color, it had already gone again. They had lifted their head up and were staring at her.

"Um, yeah," she said. "They'd . . . been keeping the—the remains in that storage closet. Where the murder happened. You didn't know?"

"He wasn't on the logs," said Lalna. "Why would somebody put him in there and not put him on the logs? Where's he gone, what happened to him?"

"I don't—I don't know, Lal, nobody knows," said Nano.

"If someone's stolen Lalnable, we've got to find them," Lalna said. "It's most likely the same person who did this to me. If they spliced that footage and hid it from me, and did something to make me overheat, then they know all of my internal commands. They could be fixing him. We've got to find them."

"Was he even _fixable?"_ Nano asked. "If Zylus zapped him—"

"Who says he did?" said Lalna. "Zylus lied to all of us for months, maybe he lied about that, too."

"He was pretty fucked up when he got back, Lal," Nano said. "I don't think he would've electrocuted himself just to make a more convincing story."

"It doesn't matter," said Lalna. "It really doesn't, because Lalnable's gone, and we've got to find him. Right now."

"Right _now,_ what we've got to do is fix _you,"_ said Nano. "Physically and mentally. We're not going to be able to get anything done with a giant hole in your chest and a bit of your memory you can't think about without overheating."

Lalna scowled, but let their head drop back onto the table.

"Fine," they grumbled. "Maybe you should get someone to help you."

"I'm sure Rythian'll be back soon," said Nano, returning to her work in Lalna's chest.

"When he gets back, you can work on my brains while he cleans this stuff up," they said. "It'll go faster that way."

"I really don't feel comfortable poking about in your brains when some of your wiring might be faulty."

"I've reconfigured my systems so I don't need any of that stuff," said Lalna. "It's a short-term solution, but it works fine. You should fix my brain. I hate having a broken brain. Besides, once that's fixed I can fix my body myself and you can work on finding whoever took Lalnable."

"You know, you're really not helping," Nano said. Her eye was already watering again.

"Gimme Rythian's tweezers, I can help."

"Lalna, it's Tuesday of the roughest week I have had in a _very_ long time, I am not prepared to watch you pull out bits of your own melted chest cavity."

"You haven't got to watch. You could just get me a mirror, I can do it myself. You'd just have to set it up properly. You can do other stuff while I take care of this."

"No, because you're in a really weird mood right now, and someone's been playing about in your head, and I don't want you suddenly deciding to take out your own power core because you've been sabotaged."

"I wouldn't do that," said Lalna.

"Yeah, and you wouldn't overheat for no reason, either, and look where you are now."

"That was different. I waszs just loo-loo-looking at thee _eeeee—"_

"Lalna!" she cried, slapping them on the shoulder. A fat burst of sparks leapt from their chest as the low hum of them spun up to an ear-splitting whine. They twitched a couple of times, then settled.

"Szsorry," they said. "I forgot I wasn't sup-p-posed to do that."

"And that's _exactly_ why I don't want you picking at your own innards!"

"You don't want me picking at my own innards because it'll upset you," they said, pouting. "But it won't hurt me. I've already turned my sensitivity all the way down, otherwise _you'd_ be hurting me. It's just messing with your head because it'd be horrific if I were human, but I'm not."

Nano sat back and cast her eyes to the ceiling. "You know what, Lal? Fine. Have it your way."

She put her tweezers in their hand and got out of her chair, stalking away.

"Thanks," said Lalna. "If you can find a mirror or something—"

"I'm looking!" she called, rifling through the cabinets.

 _"Oo!_ Ah, that tickles. Why's it only tickle when _I_ do it?"

Nano stuck her whole torso in the cabinet, keeping her eyes firmly on her task.

"Haven't the foggiest, Lal," Nano said. She pulled something out of the mess and held it up to examine. "Well, there's no mirror, but I've found a camera, if you think that'd work."

"Yeah, sure, so long as it's got wifi," said Lalna. "If you can clip it on that light up there, that'd be super."

"It hasn't got a clip on," said Nano, turning the little webcam over in her hands.

"There's duct tape somewhere, use that. _Oh,_ ahah, wow, that's really weird."

Despite herself, Nano looked over her shoulder at Lalna. They were halfway sitting up, propped on one of their elbows, looking down into their own chest cavity. They reached into the gaping hole and plucked out a bit of burnt plastic with the tweezers. As they pulled it out, their shoulders wiggled like a chill had just run up their spine.

 _"Woo-_ hoohoo, boy, that was a fun one," they said, enthused.

"That's probably not a _good thing,_ Lal," Nano said exasperated. "That probably means you're touching wires."

They looked up, frowning.

"Oh," they said. "Yeah, that's true. It's only because I can't see what I'm doing."

"Lie back down, for God's sake, before you hurt yourself," Nano said. "Give me thirty seconds to find some duct tape, you great bloody idiot."

"All _right,"_ Lalna sighed, lowering themself back onto the table. "It's not like it was hurting me or anything."

"You've turned your sensitivity all the way down," Nano pointed out, pulling open all the drawers along the wall in search of tape. "So, uh, _yeah,_ it probably was."

"I hadn't thought of that," said Lalna.

After another minute or so of searching, Nano managed to find duct tape and fresh batteries for the camera. She affixed it to the light that hung over Lalna's table, not prettily but firmly. Lalna had gotten themself access to the camera's systems within seconds of it being turned on, and picked up both Nano's and Rythian's tweezers, getting right to work.

"Oh yeah, that's much easier," they said. Nano had turned away, because it really was a rather unsettling sight. "You should go ahead and start working on my brains."

"I don't think I can do that while you're doing things, Lal," Nano said.

"Nah, of course you can! I'm not using the bits that're fucked up anyway."

"I'm not performing _brain surgery_ on you while you're conscious," Nano said. "Period, end of sentence, don't argue! I'm not doing it!"

Lalna was about to respond when there was a knock at the door.

 _"Um?"_ Rythian called from outside.

 _"There_ he is," said Nano, rolling her eyes. She got up and opened the door for him. He sidled in, sheepish.

"Sorry it took me a while," he said. "I was aaa _aaaah what the hell!"_

Lalna lifted their head and looked at Rythian. They smiled and waved at him.

"Hi again," they said. "You can still help if you want, I don't mind."

"I—you—that's . . . _disturbing,"_ Rythian said, clinging to Nano's shoulders and trying to hide behind her. This was about as effective as a lamppost trying to hide behind a fire hydrant.

"Tell me about it," Nano muttered.

Lalna was pulling bits of themself out of their chest cavity, methodical and precise. As soon as their right hand had lifted out of the hole, the left dipped in, a perfect unbroken rhythm that they carried off as easily as walking.

"How—how can you _talk_ while you're—while—"

They tipped their head to the side, frowning. "Rythian, I can run up to four trillion operations a second," they said. "Well. About four billion at the moment, I _have_ lost rather a lot of my brain. But honestly, this is nothing."

"Christ," Rythian muttered. "Is . . . is there anything I can do? To help?"

"You can keep me company," Lalna said. "You and Nano both can. I don't really want to be in here all alone."

Rythian looked at Nano, who shrugged.

"Sure," he said. "Um. Has—has anybody told Nilesy? What happened?"

"Oh, _shit,_ I knew I was forgetting something!" Nano said, smacking herself in the forehead. She went for her phone, cursing herself.

"As a recommendation?" Rythian said. "Maybe be a little more detailed than you were with me."

"Things were moving very fast, I didn't have time then," Nano said. She called Nilesy and moved to the back of the room, for whatever privacy that would afford her. She had until he answered to collect her thoughts.

 _"Hallo,"_ he said, sounding puzzled. _"What's up?"_

"Er, well," she said. "Something's happened to Lalna. They're okay!" she hastened to add. "They're okay, but . . . not in great shape."

 _"What happened?"_ he demanded. _"Where are they? I'm not doing anything, I could—"_

"We don't really know what happened," Nano said. "And they're with me, in YogLabs. The old SLIP lab."

Nilesy was silent for a good ten seconds.

 _"What needs doing?"_ he asked.

"Sorry?"

_"To help. What needs doing?"_

"I think we've pretty much got things under control here," Nano said. "Rythian's here, too, by the way."

 _"Good on him,"_ Nilesy said. _"Have you told Panda and Lom yet?"_

"Not yet, no. I was going to, as soon as I was done talking to you. I figured you should know first since they're your sibling."

_"Much appreciated. Are they up to talking?"_

"Yeah, hang on," said Nano. She came back to the table and gestured with the phone to Lalna. "He wants to talk to you. Nilesy, I'm putting you on speaker."

 _"All right,"_ he said, his voice coming tinny through the phone's speakers. _"Sib? You there?"_

"Hiya Nilesy," they said.

_"What happened? Is everything all right?"_

"I dunno. I can't really think about it without overheating. I overheated, by the way, but I guess I managed to isolate the function that was doing it before I died. I can do that because I'm quantum. Trying to pull up the memories un-isolates it, I think."

 _"Fucking hell,"_ said Nilesy. _"Is it just that something's broken, or. . . ?"_

"We don't know," Nano said.

_"Right, obviously, because they can't think about it. Idiot. Sorry."_

"You're not an idiot, Nilesy," Nano said. "It's looking like it might have been deliberate. I'd just sent them a file that'd already been tampered with once so that they wouldn't read bits of it. It's not too far-fetched to think there was some additional messing about in the bits they weren't supposed to read."

"And Lalnable's missing," Lalna added helpfully.

_"What?! Since when?"_

"Yesterday," said Lalna. "Nano forgot to mention it to anyone."

"It was a very busy day," she said tightly.

_"God, well, you'd better get hold of Lom and Panda right away. That's bad fucking news, that is."_

"Why don't you tell Panda and I'll tell Lom?" said Nano.

 _"Ahhhh, hahah, ah, well, about that,"_ said Nilesy. _"Rythian's there, isn't he? It's probably better he does it, if you can't."_

"You've been fighting again," said Nano.

_"No, not lately, no, I'd just rather—not. You know."_

"You live with the man, Nilesy, how hard can it be to just _talk_ to him?"

_"I wouldn't expect you to understand, I'm just asking if, maybe, perhaps, I could not be the bearer of secondhand bad news when I know almost nothing about anything that's happened? Especially when it involves the attempted murder of my sibling?"_

Nano sighed. "Fine," she said. "I'll talk to him about it. Are you all right, right now? I can send Rythian back if you want, he's not being much help here."

"Thanks," Rythian said dryly.

 _"No, no, that's fine,"_ said Nilesy. _"I'm all right. You'd best tend to Lalna, for now, don't worry about me."_

"She's not even tending to me," said Lalna. _"I'm_ tending to me, because she's scared of poking about in my brains while I'm doing things."

_"You know, honestly sib, I don't blame her."_

"All right, all right," said Nano. She took Nilesy off speakerphone and retreated to the back of the room again. "You're off speaker. And you're _sure_ you're all right? I know this's got to be difficult for you."

 _"Nano, please stop talking to me like I'm made of glass,"_ said Nilesy, annoyed. _"Yes, I'm all right. I'm worried about Lalna and I'm scared for the rest of us, but I'm all right. Please don't assume I'm lying just because I don't conform to your expectations."_

"I wasn't—I didn't think you were _lying,_ I just—" She broke off, uncomfortable. "Okay. Right. I'll keep you updated. Let me know if you need anything, all right?"

 _"I will,"_ said Nilesy. _"Thank you for letting me know."_

"Of course," said Nano. "I'll see you later."

 _"Ta~,"_ said Nilesy, and hung up.

"That boy concerns me to no end," Nano muttered, shaking her head. She turned around and raised her voice, trying to keep her tone light. "Lal, as soon as you're done, why don't we go up to my office to do the rest of this? I think I can bring everything we need with us, and I'm starting to hate this room."

"Okay," said Lalna. "I'm not sure I'll be able to walk. You might have to fix that first. I know I've lost some actuators down there, but I lost some sensors, too, so I can't tell what is and isn't working."

"I'll have a look at it," Nano said. "Just as soon as I've called Lom. Rythian, can you get Panda up to speed?"

"Hahah," said Lalna, their eyes flickering green. _"Up to speed._ It's funny because he's a hyperkinesthete."

"That was . . . unintentional, but thank you," said Nano. "Rythian?"

"I—yes," said Rythian, blinking as though he was coming out of a daydream. "I can do that. Yes."

While he stepped out into the corridor, propping the door open with the roll of duct tape, Nano called up Lomadia. She only got the answering machine, which was sensible, since Lomadia was probably fast asleep at this time of day. Still, it left a knot in Nano's stomach, and at the end of her message explaining the situation, she asked Lomadia to call her back as soon as possible. There was a part of her that wanted to drop everything and run home right then, just to make absolutely _sure_ nothing had happened.

Rythian came back in shortly, a little sweatier and a little redder than he'd gone out.

"How's Panda?" Nano asked.

"Um," said Rythian, "enthusiastic. Is the word I would choose. There was a lot of . . . invectives."

"That seems to be his default state," said Nano.

"How's Lomadia?"

"Asleep," said Nano, then added, "most likely. I'll probably call her back in a couple hours, just to make sure."

"Fair enough," said Rythian. "Um. Lalna, how—how long do you think this will . . . take?"

"I dunno," said Lalna. "Probably about an hour, at this point. Maybe less."

"Right," Nano sighed. She went and sat down at one of the lab benches, propped her chin on her hand, and looked up at Rythian. "Fancy a game of cards?"

"Do you . . . have cards with you?" he asked.

Nano made a face, looking at the ceiling.

"Fancy drawing some cards?" she asked.

* * *

 

It took Lalna fifty-eight minutes to finish cleaning out their insides, and thereafter it took Nano another hour and a half to get their legs working again. While she was doing that, she sent Rythian away on a mission to find a shirt for Lalna, since she couldn't very well have them walking around YogLabs with a great gaping hole in their chest, _especially_ with a glowing thing in it. They wouldn't have made it six steps without some idiot sticking their hand in there to see what would happen.

Nano had discovered, over the past few months, that Section L scientists were, to a man, a bunch of fucking _moths._

It took some doing to get Lalna on their feet, and involved a lot of hoisting from both Rythian and Nano. Rythian hadn't managed to find a shirt but had procured a very large lab coat from somewhere, which he helped Lalna into. It didn't sit quite right, and he fiddled with the buttons for three whole minutes before Nano rescued Lalna from his fussing by taking Rythian by the shoulders and physically turning him towards the door.

"Okay, time to go, come on," she said. "The sooner we get up there, the sooner I can fix Lal's brains."

"Right," said Rythian. Nano gave him a hearty shove towards the door and then went back for Lalna.

They weren't walking right, so mechanical it was unsettling. The style of their movement reminded her powerfully of an old animatronic in some abandoned amusement park, half broken-down and rusted through. She helped them to the door and then handed them off to Rythian, since she was the one who knew where she was going.

"I can walk fine," Lalna protested. "You haven't got to help me."

"I know," said Rythian. "I'm leaning on you because _I'm_ tired."

"Smooth," Nano drawled, setting off down the corridor at a leisurely pace to make sure Lalna could keep up. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?"

 _"Eeehhh,_ three minutes?" Rythian guessed.

Nano snorted. "At this rate you'll _actually_ be smooth, and then nobody'll stand a chance."

"That's what Fox has really been teaching me," he said. "How to be smooth."

"God help us," Nano said, shaking her head.

 _"Ooh!_ Hey, there you are, Dr. Sounds, hey, wait up a sec!"

The sound of the lisping American accent made Nano wince. She stopped and turned to see Bebop hurrying towards her, brandishing a yellow lollipop.

"I'm a _bit_ in the middle of something, at the moment," she said, as Bebop came to a halt in the middle of the corridor.

"Yeah yeah, it won't take long," said Bebop. "Bates told me you were down here, with Xeph's robot."

"They're not Xephos's," Rythian said, his voice low.

"Uh-huh, whatever. Hey, hang on a sec, don't I know you?" Bebop said, peering at Rythian. Rythian looked him up and down, leaning back.

"No?" he guessed.

"Huh," said Bebop. "Whatever. Anyway, my boys got the full autopsy on that corpse, if you want it."

"Email it to me," said Nano, turning to leave. "It's been a _very_ long day and it's not even three o'clock."

"You're the one who was all gung-ho about having the info yesterday," Bebop said, pouting. He stuck the lollipop back in his mouth and kept talking around it. "Tho uh, what'th going on here, with thith little—thircuth troupe?"

"Section L business," Nano said. "C'mon Lalna, Rythian. We've got places to be."

She heard the other two start after her, and then the distinctive sucking sound of Bebop tugging the lollipop out of his mouth.

"Rythian!" he said, laughing. "Hey, see, I _knew_ I knew you from somewhere! It's just _last_ time I saw you, you were naked on a table in Medical!"

Nano went rigid. Absolute silence fell. She turned, disbelieving, sick, furious.

Rythian was standing ramrod-straight, his eyes staring and unfocused. As she watched, his fists clenched at his sides, so hard it turned his knuckles pale. Sparks skittered up his arms, glittered in his hair.

"Bebop," Nano said, "walk away. Right now."

"Aw, c'mon, I was just—"

"Excuse me," Lalna said. They moved around Rythian and lurched their way up to Bebop.

"Uh, okay, personal space—" Bebop said, backing away.

Lalna's eyes flashed red and their fist hit Bebop in the stomach like a battering ram. All the air burst out of him in a palpable _oomph_ and he dropped to the floor on the instant, coughing and gasping and retching. Lalna put a foot on his back and slammed him down so hard that something _cracked._ Bebop scrabbled at the floor, wheezing.

 _"Can't breathe,"_ he squeaked. _"Can't breathe, I can't—"_

"If you talk about Rythian like that again, I'll kill you," Lalna said matter-of-factly. "Got it?"

Bebop was reddening, his eyes bugging out. Lalna's foot was like a stone on his back, utterly unmoving.

 _Help,_ he mouthed, but no sound came out. Lalna watched him struggle for a moment, like they were calculating something.

"All right," they said. They took their foot off him and he gasped in a huge breath, then immediately threw up. Lalna turned their back on him and returned to Rythian's side.

"Lalna, what the fuck," Nano said faintly.

They shrugged. Their eyes were dark, unreadable.

"We can go do the thing now," they said, slipping their arm around Rythian's waist. Rythian shrank against them, looking sheepish.

"Oh God," Bebop wheezed behind them. He threw up again.

"Lalna you can't—you can't just—" Nano sputtered.

They tipped their head to the side, slowly.

"Can't what?" they asked.

Nano glanced back at Bebop, who was quivering, on his hands and knees. There were flecks of blood clinging to his lips. She swallowed.

"Why don't we talk about this in my office," she said.

"Okay," Lalna said, unconcerned.

Nano turned and headed for her office. The back of her neck prickled incessantly the whole way.


	7. Chapter 6

"So," Strife said, drumming his fingers on his massive desk. "Tell me all about it."

Trell swallowed, fidgeting. He glanced at Fox, who nudged him with an elbow. He cleared his throat.

"Er, well," he said, "I didn't . . . get terribly far." Fox elbowed him again, harder, and he added a hurried, _"Sir."_

"Uh-huh, big surprise, how far _did_ you get?"

"Look, this can't _possibly_ be necessary," Trell said. "You _own_ YogLabs, why don't you just _ask_ them?"

Fox hit xemself in the forehead. Strife looked up. His eyes were like two green lasers, boring into Trell's head.

"Toffee, what do I pay you for?" Strife asked casually.

"On the books, or off them?" Trell responded, and winced. That one wasn't supposed to come out.

The corner of Strife's mouth turned up. "Depends," he said. "Which one do you wanna _keep_ getting paid for?"

Trell made a face. "You pay me to spy on YogLabs Section B," he said.

"Break in," Strife corrected. "I pay you to _break in_ to YogLabs Section B. And nobody calls it _Section B,_ it's Medical, get your head in the game. What I do _not_ pay you to do, Toffee, is to ask me _stupid questions."_

"My name is Trellimar," he said, "or Toffolo, if you must."

"Shut _up,"_ Fox hissed at him.

"Jeez, it's this _obsession_ with names again," Strife lamented. "What _is_ it with you people and names? I gotta get that woman off the news."

"Which woman?" Trell inquired. Strife glared at him again and jabbed a finger at him.

"You got ten _seconds_ to tell me what you figured out," he said, "or I'm throwin' you out on the streets. _Maybe_ from this floor."

"Go ahead," said Trell. In for a penny, in for a pound. "It'll be better than having to stand about groveling and pretending to admire your shit decor."

Strife stared at him like he was crazy. Fox likewise stared at him like he was crazy, but xe also started backing away slowly.

"You got anything else you wanna add?" Strife asked. "'Cause, if you do, go ahead and get it outta your system. C'mon. Gimme your worst."

"Sure," said Trell, "I'd love to. You're an ugly, mutophobic, misogynistic, racist clod of horse shit, you've got all the style of a frat boy, and you're so stupid and useless you've got to spy on your own organization. You're a coward, a weasel, and an opportunist, and d'you know what? I'm going to tell Dr. Sounds about your _little project_ just to watch her take you to bits."

Strife stared at him. Fox had gone pale.

"You done?" Strife asked.

"I think so," said Trell.

"Good," said Strife, and pulled out a gun and shot him.

There was a blinding pain in Trell's forehead and a sharp _yank_ at his abdomen, and the world went dark and he fell, plummeting through miles of whirling blackness, unable to breathe or think or move.

Then someone was holding his shoulder, stroking his cheek. His body faded back in, twitching and sore and weak. There was a cold floor against his side. He opened his eyes. Fox was staring down at him, concern written in every feature.

"Trell?" xe said. "Trell, hey, you back? It's okay, you're okay."

"Mm," he said. His tongue was thick and fuzzy. He tried to sit up, but a wash of dizziness and nausea overtook him and he had to stay lying down. He reached up and patted Fox's wrist.

"Is something going to happen?" Fox asked. "Something dangerous?"

"Nah," he croaked.

"Well for fuck's sake, don't scare me like that," xe snapped. Xe sat back, and Trell took stock of his surroundings.

Fox's office. There was coffee on. They were alone. He took another attempt at sitting up and managed it this time.

"Time?" he asked, pressing the heel of his hand to his temple. This one was going to be a scorcher.

"Two minutes, three seconds," Fox said. "You conked out about ten minutes ago, though. You've been doing the sad moaning thing for a while. It's . . . three-eighteen, by my watch. We've got like forty minutes."

Trell grunted in acknowledgement. He could taste bile on the back of his tongue. There was a spot right between his eyes that was stinging relentlessly.

"Seriously, though, what happened?" Fox said, leaning xyr elbows on xyr knees and peering at him.

"I said something stupid," he said.

"To who, Strife?"

"Yeah."

"And you've hopped back, for _that?"_

"It was really _really_ stupid."

"What, did he throw you out the window?"

"Hah-hah, you think you're joking," said Trell, as another wave of nausea washed over him. He winced, shutting his eyes and trying to make the world stop spinning. He just wanted to take a nap. Opening his eyes again seemed like a monumental task.

Fox took his wrist, gently, and pressed xyr thumb into the pressure point in his forearm. Xe held it there, just the right amount of pressure in just the right place, and slowly the nausea began to subside. He glanced at xem and flashed a weak smile.

"Thanks," he said. Xyr hands were warm, calloused.

"I'm not having you barfing all over my office again," xe said, wrinkling xyr nose.

"It was _one time,"_ Trell said. Raising his voice, even a little, sent bursts of needling pain through his head, and he winced again.

"Are you going to be up for a meeting, even?" Fox asked, dubious.

"I've had worse," Trell said. "At least this time I'll know what not to say."

"Did he _really_ throw you out the window?"

"No," said Trell. "He shot me."

"Bullshit, no he didn't."

Trell glared at xem. That stinging sensation between his eyes had not gone away. The nausea was making a resurgence. He wanted to lie back down.

"I'm going to barf on _you,"_ he threatened.

"Nah, come on," said Fox. "Look, you've said yourself, sometimes you pop back on your own 'cuz you only _think_ you're going to die. Strife's a bastard, but he wouldn't _shoot_ you. Not in front of _me,_ anyway."

"I can guarantee you, he would," said Trell. The _bang_ was still ringing in his ears.

Fox frowned. "Well he wouldn't do it twice."

"Wouldn't have to," Trell mumbled, rubbing the spot between his eyes.

Nudging him with an elbow, xe said, "For someone who's _practically_ the most powerful being in existence, you whine an awful lot."

"That's why I'm so powerful," said Trell. "So nobody can stop me whining."

"I bet I could," said Fox.

"Fuck's sake, Fox, cool it, I've just had a seizure," Trell whined.

 _"I_ was going to make you a cup of tea," said Fox, pressing a hand to xyr bosom. "Get your mind out of the gutter, garbage man."

"The proper term is _sanitation worker,"_ Trell corrected, supercilious.

Fox patted his cheek just a little too hard and got to xyr feet. "What sort of tea d'you want?"

"Ginger, if you've got any left," said Trell, as Fox moved away. "Much fun as it'd be to barf all over _Strife's_ office, I don't want to have this conversation again. It's been bad enough the first time through."

"I'm insulted," Fox said, rifling in xyr cabinets.

"Good, because I was insulting you."

"Call that an insult? Pathetic."

 _"You_ try coming up with witty banter after being shot in the head. See how well you do."

"Y'know, you keep talking, but all I hear is _waah waah, I'm a big immortal baby."_

Trell shut his eyes and rubbed that spot in the middle of his forehead. He felt like someone had poured a full bottle of rubbing alcohol into his skull and set it on fire. And then melted down the bottle and made him drink it. He was still shaky, like he hadn't eaten in far too long—and when _had_ he last eaten? An hour ago, two hours? It seemed an eternity. When had he last _slept?_ Two eternities, at least.

Fox's electric kettle rumbled up to full-boil and then clicked itself off. Delicately, Trell slid across the floor until he could prop himself up against the wall. Fox came over and sat beside him, handing him a hot cup of tea.

"Lucky you, I bought a new box yesterday," xe said.

"Thanks," said Trell. He leaned his head back against the wall, pillowed by his mass of tight black curls. Fox linked arms with him and bumped his shoulder with xyrs. Xe took his wrist and found the pressure point with xyr thumb again.

"Does this _actually_ help?" xe asked. "Only I've tried it on myself and it makes _me_ sicker."

"You press too hard on yourself," he said.

"I'm not pressing too hard on you, am I?"

"Not right now."

"Next time I feel sick, I'll have you do me," said Fox. "So I know how hard to press."

Trell sipped his tea. It was hot enough to scald his tongue, but he didn't have the time to wait for it to cool down.

Oh, the irony.

"Fox?"

"Yeah?"

"When'd I last eat?"

"Uff, like, a couple hours ago? We went for lunch."

"Right," said Trell. He winced as the flaming liquid in his head sloshed with the movement of his thoughts. "That was at—one o'clock?"

"Yep. It's right just about three-thirty now."

"Right. Okay. And we came straight here, and hung out for a bit, and . . . then on to Strife's office?"

"Haven't gone to Strife's office yet," said Fox. "We're still in the hanging out bit."

"I knew that," said Trell.

"I don't know _what_ you'd do without me," Fox said, shaking xyr head.

Trell sipped his tea. "I'd manage," he said. "I have done, except for the past four months."

"You're the least romantic person I've ever met."

He smiled weakly. "I'll get it next time," he said.

* * *

 

Far too soon, the time came for the both of them to take the long elevator ride up to Strife's penthouse office. Trell was still weak and shaky, filling progressively with dread with each passing floor. The elevator ride was familiar. Fox's hand on his arm was familiar. He could feel himself slipping back into the trench of Last Time Round, following the same movements, the same words, the same thoughts.

They stepped out of the elevator on the top floor and Trell heard the security guard speak before the words even left their mouth.

_Excuse me, can I see your—_

"Excuse me," they said, rising from their stool. "Can I see your ID's, please?"

_Of c—_

"Of course," said Fox, whipping xyrs out and handing it over. Trell fumbled in his pockets until he found his ID, too. The guard looked them over briefly and handed them back.

"Go on," they said. Fox thanked them, and xe and Trell headed off again. The corridor was even more oppressive than usual, between the dark coloring and Trell's persistent headache. The other three guards watched them suspiciously as they passed.

Fox knocked on Strife's ridiculously large office door. The sound made Trell wince, too loud and too sharp.

_In—_

"In!" Strife barked from inside.

Fox opened the door and held it for Trell. He gave xem a weak half-smile as he entered, and xe followed. The door swung shut behind them.

Strife was sitting at his desk, poring over paperwork. His ebony and mother-of-pearl cane was leaned up against it next to his huge leather chair. He spared Trell and Fox only the barest glance as they entered.

_So. Tell me—_

"So," Strife said, drumming his fingers on his massive desk. "Tell me all about it."

Trell swallowed, fidgeting. He looked for Strife's other hand. It was under the desk. He wondered if it was already on the gun. Fox nudged him and he cleared his throat.

"Er, well," he said, "I didn't get terribly far. Sir." That one was easy, flowed right off the tongue.

"Uh-huh, big surprise," Strife intoned, still absorbed in his paperwork. "How far _did_ you get?"

_Look, this can't possibly be—_

"A-about to the . . . the third basement, sir," Trell choked, talking over the words that leapt to mind with far greater ease. With that, the sense of compulsion finally faded, leaving him standing in a fresh new present with no precedent. "I would've got farther, but somebody pulled out a taser and—well, sometimes I just go without meaning to. Can't help it. Sorry, sir."

"Huh," said Strife. "Feel like _that's_ fixable, but whatever. You get anything useful, or just a face full of taser?"

"Unless you _don't_ already know about the murder, then no," said Trell. Fox elbowed him and he added, "Sir."

"The yesterday-murder?" said Strife. "No, Toffee, I hadn't heard about that one, because I'm a total idiot."

Trell, through great effort of will and an intimate knowledge of what Strife had in his other hand, managed to keep his mouth shut. Strife kept talking, sparing him from having to bite through his tongue.

"Fine, whatever, _y'know,_ I been thinking," he said, sitting forward and fixing Trell with his green-laser gaze. There was a very, _very_ faint little _chunk_ noise that could have been anything, and Strife brought his other hand up and laced his fingers together. "I'm wasting your talents, Toffee."

Whatever relief had come with the reappearance of Strife's other hand was immediately engulfed by dread.

"O-oh?" said Trell, wondering if it was worth it to just go ahead and skip back now, make a run for it, never look back. . . .

"Oh yeah," said Strife. He was smiling. "See, because I figured out you can _literally_ do whatever the hell you want, and there's _no consequences._ For _anybody."_

 _There are for me,_ he wanted to say, but didn't, because damn himself to hell, he was _interested._

He glanced at Fox. Xe looked like xe was watching the greatest soap opera of all time. Strife clicked his fingers twice to get Trell's attention back.

"Hey, Toffee, eyes on the boss-man," he snapped. "So here's what you're gonna do for me."

Strife told him. Trell listened, halfway between horror and fascination.

"You've _got_ to be kidding," he said, when Strife was done.

"Look at my face, Toffee," Strife said, pointing to it helpfully. "Does this look like a _kidding_ face?"

"I'll _die!"_

"Yep, well, you're good at that," said Strife. His hand dipped under his desk. Fox started forward, too late, and the gun came out and leveled right between Trell's eyes. The same old spot started prickling again.

"Mr. Strife," Fox said. Xyr voice was shaking. "Don't."

"No, see, here's the beauty of this little arrangement," Strife said. He was smiling again. His gaze was fixed on Trell. "Soon as I pull the trigger, Toffee here skips back an hour and everything resets. Everything I just said comes _un-_ said. There's no record of it _anywhere,_ except in Toffee's pretty little head. You see where I'm going with this? So Toffee, when you come back in here next time around, what I want you to say to me is: _Mr. Strife sir, last time through you told me everything._ And I'll know what that means, and _you'll_ know what that means, and nobody else on the _goddamn planet_ will know what that means, because as far as they're concerned, _I never said it._ Plus, y'know, I'll give you a bonus. For the trauma. Ten thousand sound good? I already decided, so don't try negotiating next time through."

"You're _mad,"_ Fox said, horrified. "You've gone absolutely _mad!"_

"No, Fox, if I'd _gone mad,_ I'd shoot you first," said Strife. "But today I'm not trying to make a point. Today I'm just getting things _done._ So Toffee, repeat after me: _Mr. Strife sir, last time through you told me everything."_

Trell's tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His jaw was locked. There was a tingling in his guts. He could go _now,_ right now, before Strife pulled the trigger, run like _hell_ and hope like _hell_ and try to find _someone_ who would help him—

"Toffee," Strife warned. His aim started to drift towards Fox.

"Mr. Strife, sir, last time through you told me everything," Trell croaked.

Strife's mouth split open into a great big grin.

"And don't you forget it," he said.

_BANG_

* * *

 

"Trell? Trell, hey, you back? It's okay, you're okay."

Trell kept his eyes closed while the nausea washed over him, again.

"Mm," he said. He didn't even try to sit up, sick and exhausted.

"Is something going to happen?" Fox asked. "Something dangerous?"

"Not again," he croaked. "Time?"

"Five minutes," Fox said. "I thought you weren't going to stop. You've been doing that moaning thing for the last ten minutes, too. What happened?"

All Trell managed to say was, _"Fuck."_

* * *

 

Fox practically had to carry him into Strife's office this time, but the meeting itself went much better. Trell parroted his line, Strife raised an eyebrow, and five minutes later Trell walked back out of the office ten thousand pounds richer.

"What was all that about?" Fox asked, helping him back down the corridor.

"If I tell you," Trell said, "I think he will literally kill you."

"Aw, come off it, no he wouldn't," said Fox.

"I cannot have this argument with you again," Trell groaned. "I can't. I _physically_ can't."

"We've never had this arg— _ohhhhh,"_ said Fox.

"Thank you," said Trell.

Fox squeezed him. "Rough day, huh?"

"You have _no idea,"_ said Trell.

"I s'pose now might be a good time to mention that I'm still really, _really_ sorry I told him about your Powers."

"I know," said Trell, not without bitterness.

* * *

 

Trell walked home alone that night. Fox couldn't give him a ride because xe'd lent xyr car to someone earlier that day, although xe had offered to walk him back. He'd declined, because xe lived twelve miles away from him and, despite everything, he really _did_ have an unfortunate streak of chivalry in him that he hadn't managed to suppress just because Fox wasn't actually a woman.

He kept his head down, his hands in his pockets, his eyes lowered. White women still clutched their purses a little tighter as he walked passed them, but he pretended not to notice. It was nothing compared to the reaction he'd get if someone caught the color of his eyes. Fortunately that was harder to see at night.

The flat was actually in a fairly nice neighborhood, but Trell had to pass through a couple of not-so-nice ones on the way there. He never had any trouble, which was a blessing, because he felt like if he tried to skip back one more time today his brain was going to liquefy and come out his nose. He passed through a narrow alleyway, kicking an empty beer can along in front of him. Spray-painted in block capitals on the brick wall to his left was a slogan he'd seen frequently in the back alleys of Bristol. Whether it was a condemnation or a threat, he couldn't tell, although he had an inclination that it wasn't friendly.

_**THIS CITY EATS FREAKS** _

He was starting to wish he'd taken the hint when he'd first gotten here. Things hadn't been _great_ in Bath, but at least no one had shot him.

Then again, no one had given him ten thousand pound bonuses, either.

Trell made it home without incident, letting himself into his tiny studio flat and only having to jiggle the key a couple of times to get it back out of the lock. Granamyr sprinted at him and flung himself into Trell's shins, meowing his head off.

"All right, all right," Trell grumbled. "I'm not _that_ late, keep your trousers on."

 _Rrow, mrow, maugh, mank, mrowwww!_ Granamyr complained, winding round and round Trell's legs and rubbing against him like he was trying to scrape something nasty off his shoulders. Trell reached down and scratched him between the ears.

"You want dinner?" he asked.

Granamyr dashed back to the bathroom, his paws thudding on the hardwood floor. Trell dropped his bag by the door. He flicked on the lights and followed Granmyr into the bathroom, where he fed him and spent a few minutes washing the crusted sweat off his own face.

While the cat was still horking down his dinner, Trell went and rooted around in the fridge for something he could stomach. He was all out of yogurt, and applesauce was utterly unappealing. He could make toast, but even that made his stomach churn. In the end he just made himself a cup of ginger tea and decided to take a rain check when he was done. He settled in his papasan chair and flicked the TV on.

There was nothing good on, so he browsed through his streaming services until he found an old sci-fi show that was passably watchable. He settled in, not really paying attention, and soon enough Granamyr came and joined him, curling up on the foot of the bed and washing his paws.

"I should've been a cat," Trell sighed. "Cats haven't got problems like this."

 _Prrb,_ went Granamyr. That was really all there was to be said about the matter.


	8. Chapter 7

He knew Zylus was drunk from the moment the door opened. It didn't even take the sound of his staggering footsteps, the wash of gin-sour breath across the back of Nilesy's neck, the too-warm hands tangling in his hair, touching his shoulder. He had to keep the door unlocked because that was the deal. He could stay here in the two-bedroom flat with Zylus and not have to worry about the others dragging him away in the night, just so long as he kept his door unlocked. It was more than fair. He'd convinced himself it was more than fair.

He held very still, pretending to be asleep, hoping that maybe just this once, Zylus would be too drunk to tell, that just this once he could get away with it. . . .

Zylus kissed his neck, just under the ear, a scrape of teeth beneath the softness of his lips. The hand in Nilesy's hair was too tight, pulling too hard, control with no direction. Nilesy was shivering. He couldn't help it. He wished he could help it.

"Sho tenshe," Zylus mumbled, the other hand wandering over Nilesy's shoulder, pressing the pad of its thumb against the base of his neck. "Too tenshe."

"I'm sorry," Nilesy whispered, because that was usually what he was supposed to say.

Zylus kissed the same spot again, fingers wrapping around to touch Nilesy's throat. Heat bloomed under Nilesy's skin, his breath caught in his throat, and he hated it. He hated how much he _wanted_ it.

"Like that," Zylus breathed, rapturous. "More like that."

Nilesy just lay there shivering, because he had no idea what he was supposed to do or say or be. It was always so much _harder_ when Zylus was drunk, when he tried to get Nilesy to be an active participant in all this instead of just making everything happen the way it was supposed to.

"Hm," said Zylus. Businesslike, he put his hand on Nilesy's shoulder and pushed him over onto his belly. The other hand untangled from his hair. Nilesy's stomach knotted up with dread, with resignation.

Maybe he only _thought_ he didn't like it. Zylus wouldn't do things to him that he didn't like. Zylus would know. If it was happening, it must have been because Nilesy wanted it to happen.

Zylus threw a leg over him and sat on his rear, slipped his hands under Nilesy's shirt and pushed it up to his shoulders. Dutifully, with shaking hands, Nilesy took it the rest of the way off for him. Zylus leaned down and kissed the base of his neck.

"Good," he murmured, and Nilesy shuddered, breaking out in gooseflesh. Zylus sat back again.

Warm fingers dug into the hard knots in Nilesy's shoulders, coaxing, firm. Nilesy managed a single breath, flushed with treacherous relief. Zylus's hands made easy work of the massed tension in his shoulders, the tight cords in his neck, the bundled pain in his lower back. Carefully, carefully, Nilesy started to breathe again.

"Too tenshe," Zylus repeated, one hand wandering up into Nilesy's hair and massaging his scalp. "Relaxsh. Can't shleep with you all—all—what'sh the fucking— _gejaagd,_ all . . . _like thish._ Relaxsh."

The other hand was resting flat at the base of his spine, warm, soft, gentle. Nilesy's eyes started to drift closed. Zylus's fingers idly worked the last of the tension out of his lower back. The hand slid up to his shoulders, following his spine. Fingernails dug in, dragged back down. All the tension Zylus had so painstakingly worked out of his back wrenched back up in an instant. An involuntary whimper slipped past Nilesy's lips. The hand in his hair clenched, pooling heat under his scalp.

"Dammit, Nileshy," Zylus growled.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, scrambling to think of what he'd done wrong, scrambling to fix it. Zylus yanked on his hair and he yelped.

"Not good enough," said Zylus, and his voice was shaking, _tearful._ "It'sh never—it'sh never _enough._ Why doeshn't it—doeshn't it work, why doeshn't—fuck you, _fuck_ you, fuck you—"

The other hand struck him in the back, _hard,_ balled-fist knuckles-first, _meant_ to hurt him.

"Zylus—" he said, trying to wriggle free, terrified. Zylus yanked his hair again and then pushed his face down into the pillows, so hard Nilesy could barely breathe. Nilesy fumbled for Zylus's wrist, trying to pull him off, and there was another sharp strike, in his shoulder this time, and then a third, the slap of skin against skin and a hot, red pain.

Just as suddenly, Zylus let go of his hair and grabbed his shoulder, rolled him over roughly and sat on his hips, got a hand around his throat and kissed him hard and messy. His tongue was bitter with gin, his lips sweet. Nilesy clutched his shirt while fireworks went off under his skin, furnace heat made his blood go white and boiled the thoughts from his mind.

Zylus shuddered and broke off, sucking in a slow and trembling breath. He rested his forehead against Nilesy's collarbone, digging fingernails into his shoulder.

"God," he whispered. "God, yesh. That'sh it. Fuck. _Fuck._ That'sh it."

"You're—you're drunk, darling—" Nilesy croaked, before Zylus clapped a hand over his mouth and bit his neck so hard he nearly broke the skin. Nilesy moaned into his palm, his back arching of its own accord, his body aching for more, more, more. . . .

Zylus forced two fingers into Nilesy's mouth, pressing on his tongue, gripping his jaw so hard it hurt while Nilesy writhed underneath him. He unsuckered his mouth from Nilesy's neck, leaving hot bruises and cold spit.

"I hate you," he hissed, struggling to get them both undressed. "I fucking hate you, I hate you, I hate you—"

He kissed Nilesy again, dragging spit-slick fingernails down his cheek and neck and chest, and Nilesy shut his eyes and focused on the warmth, on the want, on anything but how much he hated himself. It probably wasn't even happening, really.

It never was, really.

* * *

 

"Nilesy?"

He blinked. His vision was blurred, and when he rubbed his eyes, his hands came away wet. He breathed for the first time in minutes.

"I'm . . . yeah," he said. "Sorry. Probably could've spared you the gory details, hahah."

"I appreciate that you didn't," said Scott, pushing his glasses a little higher up on his nose. "It sounded like it needed saying."

Nilesy shrugged, looking at the metal butterfly art on the wall, tugging at his hair absently.

"Is it all right if I ask some questions?" said Scott.

"That's what you're here for, isn't it?" said Nilesy.

"If you'd like to think of it that way," said Scott, making Nilesy grind his teeth. "Where was Vee in all this?"

"Ah, well. Noticed that, did you?"

"Yes."

"Dunno. Fucked off, as per usual. He only fronts when I _don't_ want him to."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because he's a sadistic _fuck,_ and he thinks it's _funny,"_ Nilesy snapped, his hand clenching on the armrest of his chair.

"Hm," said Scott, scribbling something down on his notepad. "Would you have liked him to intervene?"

"Of course I would, what sort of a fucking question is that?"

Scott raised a hand. "A poorly phrased one. Sorry. Did you feel like you _needed_ Vee to intervene, because you couldn't stop it yourself?"

Nilesy shrugged again, slouching down into his chair. "I could've stopped it," he mumbled. "Just . . . didn't. It doesn't matter, anyway."

"Nilesy, you _are_ aware that what you just described to me is _rape,_ yes?" Scott asked.

"Well," said Nilesy, going hot all over, sick to his stomach. Something in him, something deep and secret, settled back with quiet vindication. He squirmed. "Well, not exactly. It . . . I—I was just—it was just—it was _good,_ all right? It was really fucking _good_ and I _liked_ it, and I fucking hate myself for that."

"You didn't describe it like someone who enjoyed it," said Scott. "In fact, you described it like someone who felt terrified, miserable, and powerless. Which aren't generally things I associate with good sex."

Nilesy continued to fidget. His lip was trying to curl, and he couldn't stop the welling of tears in his eyes. He snatched a tissue off the desk and wiped the snot off his upper lip.

"Things like that don't happen to people like me," he said softly, his voice shaking.

"From experience, yes they do," said Scott. "In fact they happen _especially_ to people like you."

"It—he didn't—he was drunk, he didn't mean to," said Nilesy, wishing he could just sink into the chair and disappear. His skin was crawling, his insides squirming. His scalp was sore from all the hair-pulling.

"Why are you so desperate to make excuses for him?" Scott inquired.

"I'm not," Nilesy snapped.

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

Nilesy didn't answer. He couldn't. Half-formed responses swarmed in his head, but none of them were coherent enough to be spoken.

_Because my friends. . . ._ _Because he didn't. . . . Because I'm. . . ._

All he could muster was a helpless shrug. Scott pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"How many times did this happen?" he asked.

Nilesy swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, blinked back still more tears.

_Oh, dozens,_ Vee assured him, reptilian. _You filthy whore, you._

"At least six," he croaked. "There were . . . other times, without sex, I don't know how many. More than one. It's hard to remember."

"And he was drunk every time?"

"He was always drunk," said Nilesy.

"I don't know about you, but to me _six_ doesn't sound like a didn't-mean-to kind of number," said Scott. "Drunk or not."

Nilesy just shrugged. Scott gave him ample time to respond, then let out a short sigh.

"And how does Liam feel about all of this?" Scott asked.

"Liam doesn't feel anything," Nilesy said, bristling.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "That seems unlikely."

"He wasn't there, it didn't happen to him, he doesn't get an opinion," Nilesy said.

"He _was_ there," Scott corrected, "he just wasn't fronting at the time. And it _did_ happen to him. It happened to all three of you. He's as much entitled to an opinion as you and Vee."

"No, he's _not,_ because he _wasn't there,"_ Nilesy insisted.

Scott regarded him for a long moment, long enough that it made him start squirming again.

"Can I talk to him?" Scott asked at last.

"You can fuck off," he retorted.

"Nilesy, if you refuse to speak _for_ him, I have to speak _with_ him," said Scott. "He's my patient, too."

"He doesn't . . . want. . . ." Nilesy said, and something pressed behind his eyes and his speech slurred. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Nilesy?" Scott said again.

"Yeah, sorry," said Nilesy. He cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse all of a sudden. He winced and glanced at the clock.

And then stared at the clock, because almost half an hour had passed literally in the blink of an eye.

His heart pounded. He looked up at Scott, tension winding up his spine like a spring.

"What'd he say to you?" he demanded.

"You'd have to ask him," Scott said.

"You can't be having fucking _secret conversations_ with him behind my back," Nilesy said, his hand clenching on the armrest. He was shaking.

"And I can't play the messenger between you two forever, either," said Scott. "Talk to him, Nilesy. That's all I'm asking."

"I've got fucking _nothing_ to say to him," he snarled.

"He may have a few things to say to you," said Scott.

"Well then _he_ can come fucking talk to _me,"_ said Nilesy.

"Why is this so upsetting for you?" Scott asked.

"Sorry if I'm not perfectly all right with him fucking blacking me out for half an hour!"

"And that's understandable," Scott said. "Nobody's asking you to be perfectly all right with it. But Nilesy, I must point out, you don't react like this when it's Vee. _Despite_ Vee being a severely unpleasant person."

_"Vee_ doesn't fucking stuff me in a box," Nilesy retorted. _"Vee_ doesn't put me away like I'm some kind of fucking _doll!"_

_Oh, but you are, though,_ Vee said, hideous with glee. _Just_ _look_ _at the way Zylus treated you. And dearest darlingest Strife, of course. You make such a_ _delightful_ _little toy._

"Nilesy," Scott said quietly, "had you considered that perhaps Liam is trying to _protect_ you?"

"The only person Liam has _ever_ protected is _Liam,"_ Nilesy said. There was a tremor in his voice.

Scott made a face, then shrugged, sighing.

"All right," he said. "I'll let it go. We're about five minutes over time, anyway. We can get more into this next week. I'd like you to really think about why it bothers you so much when Liam fronts. And, if you can, try to have a conversation with him."

_What the fuck did he say to you,_ Nilesy thought, but gritted his teeth and swallowed it down.

"I'll . . . give it a go," he ground out.

"Thank you," said Scott. He closed his notebook and stood up, and Nilesy followed suit. "Have a good week, all right? And call me if you need anything, my phone's always on."

"I will," said Nilesy. He took out his wallet and handed over twenty pounds. Scott thanked him and let him out. Nilesy went out to the little car park behind the office and sat down on the curb. He put his elbows on his knees and pushed his hands up into his hair.

_You're going to go away soon,_ Vee whispered. _Not so special now, are you._

"Shut up," Nilesy muttered.

_One severed limb to another, won't it be fun to be reattached?_

"Shut up and go away."

_I could kill_ _dear Dr. Scott_ _, you know,_ Vee mused. _There's all sorts of places we could run to. Give me an hour at the wheel, I'll fix everything._

"Fuck _off,_ Verigan."

_It's funny, how you think that bothers me. Call me whatever you like, darling, I don't mind._

A car pulled into the car park. Nilesy got up, running a hand back through his hair to get it out of his eyes. He got into the passenger's seat and yanked the door shut just a little too hard.

"Hiya, Nilesy," said Zoey, while he buckled up. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," he said, already staring out the window.

"Cool, cool, that's good," said Zoey. She put the car in drive and started out of the car park. Her other arm was clipped to the steering wheel with a ball-and-socket joint. "Where to? Home? Someplace else?"

"Solutions Tower, if you don't mind," Vee said. Nilesy just barely restrained himself from punching himself in the throat.

"Wait, really?" Zoey said, glancing over at him.

"No, not really," said Nilesy, fighting to keep the fury out of his voice. "Just home, thank you. Sorry."

"Mmkay, if you're sure," said Zoey.

"I am," said Nilesy. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Zoey assured him. She headed for his flat, apparently unconcerned. "How's Lalna doing? I know it's only been a couple of days but I haven't really got to talk to Nano 'cause she's _suuuuuuuper_ busy now and I feel weird like, calling and asking about it? Oh, but it's okay if you don't want to talk about it! I'm just, like, really worried about them? But I could ask Rythian, because he'd know too, I was just, like, _uughh,_ what if it's bad news and he gets all upset and then he'll be all upset and, like, yeah."

"Lal's all right," said Nilesy, lackluster. "Nano's put their brains right and they're fixing themselves."

"Oh," said Zoey. "Great! That's really really great news, I'm glad they're okay. D'you know what happened? Only Nano didn't really tell me and Rythian didn't know, like, _anything_ about it, and he's also in like _huge_ trouble because he hurt some security person or something, which, I feel like I should be surprised by that? But I'm really not, 'cause he gets all sort of weird, especially about Lalna."

"Somebody hacked them, or something," said Nilesy. He tugged on his hair absently. "Nano had to delete a whole chunk of their memory to get them working again."

"Ugh, that's horrible, I feel so sorry for them," Zoey said. "Are they like, okay with that though? With having a bit of their brain deleted? Because that sounds really horrible and scary and like, super-duper invasive and just not fun at all."

Nilesy paused, frowning.

"Surprisingly, yes," he said. "They seem . . . fine."

"I guess that's good," said Zoey. "Yeah, that's probably a good thing. Even if they're not, like, totally completely fine, they've got you and Rythian and Nano and like, everybody else to talk to about it, so I'm sure it's all right, really."

"Right," said Nilesy.

_Everyone's going to die!_ Vee cackled, delighted. _Let's set Liam on them again, darling, it was so much fun the first time._

Nilesy gritted his teeth and dug his fingernails into his palm and did not respond.

* * *

 

It took some working up to, but Vee was being such an indomitable _shithead_ that in the end Nilesy felt he had little choice but to sit down and have an actual conversation with himself.

He locked himself in his room, promising Panda that he'd come back out whenever dinner was ready. He sat on his bed with his back to the wall, cross-legged, resting his hands on his knees. Eyes closed, he breathed deeply, trying to settle his thoughts.

He pictured himself in Scott's office, standing near the door. There was a pair of large armchairs, a couch against one wall. There was the metal butterfly art, the houseplants, the filing cabinets, the fluffy throw rug. A box of tissues rested on the glass-top end table between the armchairs, and next to it an hourglass, and a clock.

Sitting in the far chair, facing him, was Liam. He was small, his feet barely touching the floor, his hands clasped in his lap. He was looking at his shoes, his jaw tight.

"What did you say to him?" Nilesy asked.

Liam swallowed, blinking back tears. He sniffled.

A black leather glove closed on his shoulder, and the mask emerged from thin air. A smile cracked open next to Liam's ear. The walls were paling, the carpet retreating into white tile. The rest of the empty black suit coalesced, like grime from an evaporating puddle.

"You haven't got to answer that," Vee purred. "That's none of his business."

_"Would_ you clear off?" Nilesy said, rolling his eyes.

The hollow-eyed mask fixed him with its stare. The smile cracked open again. The art was melting off the wall, the room widening, whitening. The couch was gone. The other armchair was gone. It was cold and bright and clinical.

"I might," said Vee, "if you let me drive for a bit. Twelve hours?"

Nilesy's fists clenched. He didn't dignify the request with a response. Vee laughed at him. He leaned his forearm on Liam's shoulder, lounging on him like he was furniture. The last armchair had shrunk down to a thin metal frame, hard and ugly.

"He's such a greedy boy, isn't he, Liam," Vee said, his gaze unwavering. "You could get rid of him. Then it'd be just you and me, with nobody asking stupid questions or calling you names."

"Shut the fuck up, Vee," Nilesy snapped.

"Nilesy," he said, laughing, "watch your language. There's children in the room."

"Verigan, I swear to fucking God—"

"Tsk tsk, listen to him, Liam," Vee said, shaking his head. "You really _ought_ to get rid of him, otherwise he'll get rid of us. On account of he hates us. He _definitely_ hates _you."_

One black glove raised up, brushed its knuckles against Liam's cheek, caressing. Nilesy's blood boiled.

"Get your fucking hands _off_ him," he said, taking a step forward.

"Like you care," Vee said. "You've never cared about _sniveling, pathetic_ Liam, have you. No point in trying to curry favor now, just because you're on the chopping block."

"That's _not_ how it works, and you know it," Nilesy said, gritting his teeth.

"Isn't it?" Vee asked brightly. "I know only one of us makes it out of this alive. D'you _really_ think it'll be you?"

"That's _not_ how it _works,"_ Nilesy repeated. "Nobody dies, we just—we just—"

"Reattach the severed limbs?" Vee asked nastily. "The last people who said that were lying, too. He's going to kill you, Liam, you _do_ know that. He's going to kill us both, if you let him. Best to get him out of the way now."

"That is not true," Nilesy said.

"Liar, you've already tried," said Vee, grinning hugely. "D'you think you'll still like dying when you can't take us with you? I hope I get to watch you choke. You're absolutely _hideous_ when you're choking."

One finger touched Liam's throat, idle, toying.

"Stop," Liam said, very softly.

Vee looked down at him. He leaned in and pressed his hand over Liam's mouth.

"The adults are talking, darling," he murmured into Liam's ear, far too close. "Be a dear and keep quiet, would you?"

The mask dipped in and there was a quiet kiss and Liam flinched.

_"Get_ your _fucking hands_ off of him!" Nilesy snarled. He went for Vee, grabbing for the tie, for the wrists, anything he could use to pull him off.

Vee caught him by the throat and picked him up effortlessly.

"Don't let's get _violent_ about this, darling," he said, grinning.

_"Ghhkh!"_ Nilesy choked, kicking ineffectually. He couldn't breathe. He could feel, distantly, warm skin against his throat, his own hand clenched around his neck.

"Twelve hours," Vee said. "Give me my twelve hours, darling, and maybe then I'll let you talk to Liam."

Nilesy looked down at Liam, desperate for help. Liam would not look at him. The white walls were starting to go dark.

No. _No._ Vee didn't have this kind of power over him. It was his own hand around his throat. It was his own mind to control. He just had to relax his grip, just had to let go, just had to . . . just had to. . . .

"You could've played nice with me, Nilesy," Vee said, shaking his head sadly. There was a glimmer of diamond blue inside the hollows of his eyes. "You could've done this peacefully. I _did_ ask you. I did _try_ to be civil."

He clawed at the glove, for all the good it would do. There was no skin to break, no blood to draw, just leather and cotton and air. He fought with every fiber of his being, trying to wrest control back from Vee, trying to grab just one gasp of breath.

"Only twelve hours, darling," Vee said. "But I'll let you watch."

He felt himself sinking, slipping away, dark waters closing over his head.

No. This wasn't inevitable. This wasn't necessary. This wasn't _real._

He cheated.

One elbow slammed into the wall, _hard,_ bruising hard, and the pain made Vee twitch. Nilesy managed a gasp of air, a few more seconds, he just had to hold out a little longer. . . .

"Look at him, Liam," Vee said distastefully. "Look what a pathetic, clawing _mess_ he is."

Liam did not look. Liam's hands tightened in his lap.

"Nobody's coming to save you, darling," Vee purred. "Nobody ever does."

Nilesy dug his fingernails into the webbing between thumb and forefinger, pried the grip apart for a shred of an instant. He reached out to Liam, begging, pleading, silenced.

And Liam looked at his hand, and followed his arm up, and met his eyes for the first time.

And Liam said, "No."

Vee laughed, and the strength of Nilesy's hand failed, and his ears were filled with roaring and he couldn't even feel the wall against his back or the bed beneath him anymore. Distantly, through the noise and the swollen heat and the blurred dissociation, he heard a knock at his door.

_"Nilesy?"_ It was Lalna's voice. It was Lalna talking to _him,_ their brother, because it was _Nilesy_ in here, and nobody else. . . .

"Oh, run along then," said Vee, unconcerned, indulgent. "They won't always be here to rescue you."

The hand released, and Nilesy dropped heavily back into himself, dizzy and disoriented. Lalna knocked again.

_"D_ _'_ _you need me to come in?"_ they asked.

"I—I think so," said Nilesy, struggling to breathe. The print of that hand around his throat had not faded, and he was feeling someone else's skin there, feeling lips and teeth against his neck.

The knob rattled. _"It's locked,"_ said Lalna. _"I can come in anyway, though."_

"That's—no, that's fine," said Nilesy. Shakily, he got to his feet and opened the door. Lalna was standing outside, their head tipped in puzzlement, their eyes pale purple with concern.

"Is everything okay?" they asked.

Nilesy hugged them tightly, pressing his face into their shirt and the new false flesh beneath.

"It's getting there," he said.


	9. Chapter 8

It was around ten in the morning, and Panda was lounging on the couch in the common room watching soap operas. The flat was quiet, dozy. The smell of scrambled eggs was still pervading the air. He was just starting to doze off when there was the sound of a key in the lock. He sat up and blinked the blur out of his eye only to see Nilesy slipping in, dressed in yesterday's clothes. Panda leapt up from the couch as Nilesy locked the door behind him.

"Where the hell've _you_ been?" Panda demanded.

"None of your business," Nilesy retorted, heading for his room.

"You've been at Strife again, haven't you," Panda said, sick to his stomach. There were no hickeys visible on Nilesy's neck, but that didn't mean they weren't there, or elsewhere, below the collar of his shirt.

"That's none of your _fucking_ business," Nilesy snarled over his shoulder. He slammed his door. Panda stormed into the corridor and knocked relentlessly until Nilesy opened it again.

"You can't keep doing th—"

Nilesy leveled a threatening finger at him. His eyes were alight with rage, his face pale as death. He was trembling.

"You don't fucking own me," he uttered. "You're not my dad, you're _not_ my boyfriend, and you've got _no_ right to know where I am, or who I'm with, or what I'm doing, _ever._ You've got _n_ _o_ _r_ _ight._ It's _my_ fucking business and I'll do _whatever_ the fuck I want, _with_ whoever the fuck I want, whenever I _goddamn_ well please. So fuck off, Panda."

And he slammed the door again, this time in Panda's face. Panda stood there, blinking and smarting, while tears gathered in his eye and a lump swelled in his throat. Tottering, he made his way back to the common room and sat down.

A minute later, Rythian's door eased open and he sidled out.

"I heard doors slamming," he said. "Is . . . everything okay?"

"Peachy," Panda said, his voice thick with tears. He sniffled and scrubbed at his face, as though there was any chance he could pretend he hadn't been crying.

"Right," Rythian sighed. He edged through the common room and into the kitchen. Panda put his head in his hands, wondering if it was too early in the day to throw himself back into bed and curl up in a little misery-ball.

A weight settled next to him on the couch, and he looked up to see Rythian set down a pint of ice cream and a spoon on the table in front of him.

"That one's for you," he said. He pulled the lid off a second pint and held it up like he was toasting. "This one's for me."

"Um?" said Panda.

"Chick flicks are fine," said Rythian, excavating a chunk of fudge from his ice cream. "But so is talking about feelings and crying into pints of chocolate ice cream. Either way. Unless you think it's too early for ice cream, but I'm still going to eat mine."

He put the pint of ice cream between his knees, lifted up his mask, and stuck the chunk of fudge in his mouth. Panda stared at him, another wave of tears welling in his eye.

"How the fuck are you so fucking _perfect?"_ he demanded.

"I'm not," said Rythian, talking around the chunk of fudge. "I don't even know if you like chocolate ice cream."

"Oh, fuck off."

"If you don't want it, I'll eat it."

Panda snatched up the pint of ice cream and the spoon, then curled around them protectively. He sniffled.

"Ever seen _Amelié?"_ he asked.

"I have a feeling I'm about to," said Rythian.

* * *

 

By the end of the movie, Panda was weeping openly, snuggled against Rythian's side with the other man's arm around his shoulders, which was more than he could ever have hoped for. The ice cream had given him a stomachache, but he had also discovered that prolonged contact with Rythian produced a novel tingling sensation that was not at all unpleasant.

While the credits rolled, Panda leaned his head on Rythian's shoulder, trying to memorize the warmth of his body, the rhythm of his breath, the firmness of the muscles over his ribs and in his arm.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Rythian asked quietly.

If it meant getting to stay like this for a few more minutes, Panda would gladly have talked about anything.

"Um," he said. "Niles was . . . out. Last night. And I might've sort of accused him of sleeping with Strife again. And he might've got really _really_ pissed about it."

"Oh," said Rythian. "It's just that— _was_ he? With Strife?"

"Probably," said Panda, shrugging. "Otherwise I dunno why he would've got so pissy about it."

 _"Ehhhh,_ I could think of some reasons," said Rythian.

"Oh, so you're on _his_ side now."

"I'm—no, I'm not—there's no _sides,_ Panda," he said, exasperated. He started to pull away and Panda grabbed him around the waist without thinking. Rythian went stiff.

"I didn't mean that, I'm sorry, please don't go," said Panda. Rythian sighed. With his ear pressed to Rythian's chest, Panda could hear the faint crackle in his lungs, the thudding of his heart.

"Panda," Rythian began, pained.

Panda squeezed him a little harder. He smelled of lavender and clean linen and ozone. He patted Panda's shoulder awkwardly.

"Okay," he said. "I'm not—I'm not going anywhere. Right now."

"Thanks," Panda mumbled. He sniffled.

An awkward silence fell. Panda's thigh was now pressed against Rythian's, and that singular tingling sensation was spreading. Rythian was awfully warm, his heartbeat slow and strong, his chest rising and falling with his breath. The fingers on Panda's arm were really, _exceptionally_ long and slender.

There was nobody around. Rythian's room was _right there._ All he wanted was to kiss him once, just once, and see where it went from there. . . .

Panda took a deep breath, steadying himself. Okay, get a leg over him, lift up the mask, one quick kiss, don't give him time to—

There was a buzzing noise, and Rythian straightened up.

"Sorry, that's—that's mine," he said, reaching for his pocket.

Reluctantly, Panda sat back, although he kept his arms around Rythian's waist. Rythian fumbled the phone out of his pocket and held it up to his ear.

"Hi Fox," he said. "What's going on?"

There was some chatter from the phone, indistinguishable. Rythian groaned, rolling his eyes.

 _"Seriously?"_ he said. "It's my day off!"

More chatter. Rythian's head thudded back against the couch.

"I can be there in twenty minutes," he sighed. He extracted himself from Panda's grasp. Panda let him go, though it pained him. Rythian headed into his room, still whining at Fox. Panda pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them. His skin was hot and swollen, throbbing everywhere it had been touching Rythian.

Eventually Rythian came back out of his room, dressed in his Strife Solutions security uniform—which was the world's most _unfair_ outfit, because it was black and it was tailored and it really showed off all those new muscles—still talking on his phone.

"I _get_ that," he was saying, annoyed, "but _it's my day off,_ and next time I see him, I'm going to hit him with something. I'm trained in that, now."

"Good luck!" Panda called, as Rythian yanked open the front door. Rythian tossed him a cursory wave on his way out. The door thudded shut behind him. Panda buried his face in his knees.

After a while, he got up and got a glass of water, since the ice cream had left his mouth dry and sticky. He tried watching another movie and gave up in the middle because he kept having to pause it to go to the bathroom. He had two more glasses of water while channel surfing, but his mouth only got drier. That hot, swollen sensation under his skin wasn't going away.

It was with a slow and sinking dread that he began to piece the symptoms together. Exhaustion settled on his bones, and it was with weary arms and blurred vision that he rooted around until he found his old glucometer. It took even longer to find an unused test strip.

The motions were rusty, if still deeply ingrained. The lancet prick was more painful than he remembered. The beep of the glucometer was grating on his ears.

_587._

Panda hung his head and punched himself in the leg.

It looked like he'd be going to Solutions Tower, too.

* * *

 

Panda walked the eight miles to Solutions Tower, mostly in the hope that it would help bring down his blood sugar. While he could, theoretically, have stopped off at a pharmacy and sprung for a bottle of insulin and some syringes, that would be a waste of both money and insulin. He could go straight on to Solutions Tower, get only one extra injection, and be right as rain in a couple of hours.

Assuming, of course, he hadn't overdone it with the ice cream and wasn't about to go blind or comatose.

The old familiar rage was seething under his skin, so when he got to Solutions Tower he simply slapped down his ID on the front desk and snapped, "Medical."

The receptionist took his ID carefully, looking it over, typing his information in. They took _ages,_ and Panda was fairly vibrating with frustration. Didn't they know he could _die_ if he didn't get his medication? Wasn't it _obvious_ how fucking urgent this was?

"Mr. Okigbo, I'm afraid we can't send you to medical quite yet," said the receptionist.

"Why not?" Panda demanded. The sound of his given surname grated on him.

"Mr. Strife asked to see you when you turned up," they said.

"How the fuck would he know I was coming?"

They raised their hands. "I don't know, sir, I'm very sorry. But he insisted that you be sent directly to him, before going to medical."

"Fuck it, whatever," Panda said. "Give me the fucking keycard, then."

"Yes, sir," said the receptionist. They handed him a keycard and he snatched it from their hand so fast it must have left a friction burn. The elevator took _forever_ to get there, and Panda, in a fit of pique, ran up the stairs instead. He made it about twenty floors before he gave out, panting and sick and defeated. He hung out in the stairwell until he caught his breath, then dragged himself to the elevator and rode the rest of the way up to the penthouse. Although he'd burned off the greater part of his rage, the underlying annoyance was still smoldering in his bones.

The security guards let him through without too much trouble, and Panda barged right into Strife's office without so much as knocking. It was one of life's little pleasures.

 _"JEE-sus goddamn_ hell in a handbasket, every _time,"_ Strife said, beginning at a startled yelp and tumbling into an exasperated sigh.

"You're the one who _insisted_ on seeing me," Panda said, throwing himself into the chair opposite Strife's.

"And you never heard of knocking? What, were you raised in a barn?"

Panda bared his teeth at Strife. "By wolves," he said.

"Look, short stuff," Strife began, rolling his eyes.

"My name is Panda," he interrupted, fists clenching.

Strife made a face, shaking his head and tonguing his cheek.

"Always _names,_ with you folks," he muttered. He sat forward, lacing his fingers together. "Look, _Panda._ I'm richer than God, but I don't have an infinite supply of everything, hey? And especially not that serum. In fact, I have an _extremely finite_ amount of that serum, because neither my guys nor the YogLabs guys have figured out how to make more of it yet, so far as I know. Now, I can get you a new robo-pancreas, easy. I can get you a new one every three to six years, depending on how well we can get the programming to behave."

"I don't _want_ your stupid fake pancreas, I want _my_ pancreas," Panda snapped. "I'm not having you put another fucking tracker in me."

"Yeah, uh-huh, I think what _you're_ not having is an organ that shorts out every time you get clingy with Sparks McGee," said Strife, his eyes boring holes into Panda's skull. Panda went hot and sputtered.

"That's not—why would you even—I don't—that's _not_ a factor, you—I—he's got nothing to do with this!"

Strife watched him, the corner of his mouth turned up.

"Uh-huh?" he said.

"Why d'you even care, anyway?" Panda demanded. "It's like two shots every couple months, that's _nothing!"_

"Yeah, no," said Strife, tapping two fingers on the desk. "It's ten mils every forty-nine days, and yeah, I keep count. Right now, I got a little over two liters of the stuff."

"That'll last _forever!"_

"Sure, yeah, if you were the only person using any, which you're _not,"_ Strife said sharply. "Figuring out how to make more of the stuff? Uses it up. Figuring out what it's made of? Uses it up. Testing it on animals to see if we can regrow limbs, testing it on plants to see if we can make better crops, testing it on _people_ to make sure it's not a mutagen—that uses it up! You know how much they got at YogLabs? Yeah, _neither do I,_ because it's top-goddamn-secret on both sides."

"I don't give a fuck if you run out of your stupid serum," said Panda.

"Well, you should," said Strife. "'Cause _one,_ if I run out, that's a big _The End_ on you getting to use your own pancreas, and _two,_ if I run out before I figure out how to make more, _no other diabetic_ gets to use their own pancreas, either. Ever. So next time you get to chatting with your diabuddies or whatever, make sure to tell 'em they can thank _you_ for setting back the cure another decade."

Panda's throat closed up. His sinuses were stinging, his fingernails biting into his palms.

"Look," Strife said, spreading his hands magnanimously, "I get that I messed up. I put a machine in you under false pretenses for ulterior motives. And that's real shitty. That's why I'm committed to helping you out on this one. But Panda, listen, I gotta think of the big picture here, hey? I know you'd rather have all your organs working. Damn, I'd rather have two good knees."

He flicked his cane with one finger, making a face.

"But these days, I'm trying to be _less_ selfish," he said. "And if I gotta live the rest of my life using a cane, that's gonna suck, but I'm gonna do it. When we got solid production on this stuff, hey, maybe I can fix me up, too, but _until_ then, it ain't worth it. Cost-benefit analysis. The most revolutionary drug ever to hit the damn market, or one good knee."

Panda dropped his eyes, sick to his stomach. His skin was prickling with shame.

"Hey, now I'm not gonna refuse you treatment," Strife said, his voice gentle. "And I'm not gonna force you to take the treatment I wanna give you. If you still wanna get your injections, fine, you got 'em. If you want a new robo-pancreas, fine, you got it. If you want a pump, or a pen, or whatever, you got it, I'll make sure it all comes to you free. But I'm tryin' to do something _big_ here, Panda. I'm tryin' to do something that _means_ something. All I'm asking is your cooperation, hey?"

Fidgeting, chewing his lip, Panda spilled out his answer like blood through his teeth.

"Shots today," he said, the words bitter on his tongue. "Next time . . . I guess I'll go back to the old way."

Strife smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"See there, _that's_ the heroic spirit," said Strife.

"Don't fucking patronize me," Panda snapped. Strife raised his hands in surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry. Didn't mean it like that. Head on downstairs, I'll let 'em know you're on the way."

"Whatever," Panda muttered, getting to his feet. "Thanks, I guess."

"Pleasure's all mine," said Strife. "Always good talking with you, Panda."

When Panda had his hand on the doorknob, he paused.

"Um," he said. His skin was hot, his stomach in knots.

"Something else?" Strife asked, just a shade of irritation coloring his voice.

"Has—Nilesy hasn't been by . . . lately," Panda said. "Has he?"

"Uhh, no?" said Strife. "Why, he tell you he had been? 'Cuz, uh, that's a problem."

"No," said Panda. "No, he—nothing like that."

"Uh-huh, okay, well, I'll let you know if he turns up," Strife said, dripping with sarcasm.

"Go to hell," Panda spat.

"Sure. I'll wait up for ya, kiddo. I got _greed,_ you got _envy,_ find us a couple more people and we can make a full set."

Panda flung the door open and stalked out, fuming.

* * *

 

He took the bus home afterwards, both because of the normal weariness from being high and because of the heavy, gnawing exhaustion that came with use of the serum. He got back to the flat in the late afternoon, letting the door thud shut heavily behind him. He got a granola bar out of the pantry and shuffled off to his room. The flat was quiet, and the day was warm, and he'd barely made it through his snack before he was dozing off in his chair.

Just as he climbed into bed for a nap, there was a soft knock at his door. He briefly considered ignoring it, but in the end he just sighed heavily and answered it, rubbing his eye and yawning.

Nilesy was standing outside, his shoulders hunched, his face turned away sheepishly.

"Er," he said. "Have you got a moment?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Panda.

Nilesy nodded, worrying his lip between his teeth, tugging on his hair. He sighed.

"I'm . . . sorry I snapped at you, earlier," he said. "I understand that you're only concerned for my wellbeing, and I was too harsh with you. I—I need _you_ to understand that. . . ."

He took a deep breath. Panda waited for him to continue.

"I need you to understand that I feel trapped, and scared, when you demand to know where I've been," Nilesy said, as though he had rehearsed the sentence half a hundred times. "And that I feel ashamed and unsafe when you accuse me of sleeping with Strife. In the future, if you could try and express your concern for me in less demanding and accusatory ways, I'll try to be more . . . more understanding and forthcoming."

Panda took a moment to absorb all this.

"Okay," he said. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I'll—try not to do that. From now on."

Nilesy shut his eyes and let out a breath. He pushed his hair off his forehead and it immediately fell right back again.

"Right," he said. "Thanks. Good—good talk. Right."

"D'you . . . mind if I ask where you were, then?" Panda said. "I'm not—I'm not accusing you of anything, or trying to make you feel bad, like, no judgement. I just—I'm just worried about you, and it'd make me feel a lot less . . . well, _worried,_ if I knew where you went."

Nilesy fidgeted for a moment while his face tried to make some kind of expression.

"I do sort of mind," he said at last.

"Well—okay," said Panda. "You haven't got to tell me, I just—"

Nilesy waved him off. He tugged on his own hair, looking at the far corner of the corridor.

"I went and got on a train," he said. "All the way out to the end of the line. And then I found a hotel room and . . . just stayed there. By myself. Spent . . . probably about half the night in the bathtub, if I'm honest."

"Jesus, Niles," Panda said softly, his heart aching. "Why?"

He shrugged, sheepish. "Sometimes you've just got to be alone," he said. "And . . . sometimes you've just got to tend your own wounds, and not have anyone taking care of you. Sometimes—" He broke off, cracking a smile. He shook his head.

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes I just get . . . _paranoid,_ that somehow, you can all hear what I'm thinking," he said. "And . . . I get scared that if you knew what I was thinking you'd . . . you'd treat me like _he_ did. Because _he_ knew. He's the only one who ever really knew."

"We wouldn't," said Panda. "I know _I_ wouldn't."

"You don't, actually, but thanks," said Nilesy. "And part of it's Vee. Part of it's . . . moving Ground Zero away from all of you. In case he—just in case."

Panda bit his lip, trying to think of something to say. Nilesy shrugged again.

"So," he said. "Not at Strife's this time."

"I um, _I_ was actually . . . just at Strife's," Panda mentioned. "Earlier today. My—my pancreas went out again."

Nilesy clicked his teeth, leaning a shoulder against the wall. "Already? That's shit."

"Yeah," said Panda. "Yeah, um . . . I was thinking I might . . . not go back. Next time. Just sort of, y'know, pick up where I left off. With the—the testing and injections and everything."

Nilesy looked up at him sharply, frowning.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I hate having to rely on fucking _Strife,_ is why," said Panda, which wasn't entirely false.

Nilesy's eyes narrowed, but all he said was, "Understandable."

Now it was Panda's turn to fidget. He glanced back inside his room, casting about for inspiration to keep the conversation going. Nilesy pushed off the wall.

"Well, I won't keep you," he said.

"No, that's fine, you can keep me as long as you like," Panda blurted.

Nilesy regarded him wryly.

"Oh, I dunno," he said. "I wouldn't want you to miss Rythian when he gets home."

Panda went sweaty all over, tongue-tied, his mind short-circuited. Nilesy cracked a smile.

"Ah, God, you've got it bad," he said, shaking his head.

"I have not!" Panda objected.

"No? My mistake. I s'pose you just stare at him for the aesthetic."

"I don't stare at him!"

"Panda, sweet child, yes you do," said Nilesy. "Not that I don't _understand,_ hahah, no, far be it from _me_ to get onto anyone for lusting after Rythian."

"I'm not _lusting!"_ Panda squeaked.

"Well, if you ever get to it, feel free to ask for the cheat codes," Nilesy said, grinning in earnest now. "I just want to see how you'd get on with kissing him. We'd have to get you a box to stand on, or—"

"Go _away,"_ Panda said, putting his hands over his face. There was a gentle touch on the back of his wrist, two knuckles barely brushing. It still stopped his heart and froze the breath in his lungs and made his skin tingle all over.

"Honestly, Panda, I _am_ happy for you," Nilesy said softly. "And best of luck, right?"

"Thanks," said Panda, although it was more a wheeze than anything else.

"My pleasure," said Nilesy. He retreated to his room, and Panda closed the door. He tottered back to his bed and lay down, but he wasn't tired anymore.

His wrist was tingling, like the cold, soft skin of Nilesy's hand was still touching it.


	10. Chapter 9

Nano had had an exceptionally difficult day.

First there was the sister of the murdered man to deal with. Nano had foisted her off on PR as long as she could, but the woman still demanded to speak with her personally, since it was her department and he was, technically, her employee. Then there was Bebop, who'd lawyered himself up to the teeth and was threatening all sorts of things if Lalna wasn't shut down posthaste. Nano had ignored his threats so far, apart from contacting Strife and informing him that he'd be providing her with the best legal team he had, and _that_ had been an ordeal, too, because Strife was extra recalcitrant when it came to lawyers. She'd pointed out to him that if the courts ordered Lalna shut down, he would have to deal not only with Nano's fury, but with Lalna's unrestricted vengeance upon his finances.

She'd been contacted by the legal team less than an hour later. She was sure one day all this bullying and blackmailing would come back to bite her in the ass, but apparently it wasn't today.

Apart from that, there were squabbles over funding and lab space and power fluctuations in the building, the ever-increasing demands for the release of everyone in the prison sector ( _not my department,_ she told them, over and over and _over,_ and still they came _unerringly_ to her). The prototype refrigerated delivery drone malfunctioned and shredded an entire lab. An ambulance had to be called. There was paperwork. There was always more paperwork. She couldn't even spare the time to look at the full autopsy report for the murdered man.

Nonetheless, five o'clock finally rolled around, and she packed up her things and left, determined to get her weekend started as soon as humanly possible. She refused to be waylaid on her way out the door, brushing everyone off with a callous efficiency that left her tongue bitter. Halfway to her car, she was accosted by a young Black man with a massive dandelion halo of dark hair.

"Excuse me," he said, nearly jogging to keep up with her despite being almost as tall as Rythian.

"Not interested," she said, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

"You're Dr. Sounds, aren't you?" he asked. He was softspoken, with a vaguely Somerset accent. "My name's Trellimar Toffolo, I just wanted—"

"Make an appointment," she said. Her fists were clenching, her skin prickling, her blood warming. Her car wasn't that far off now, and then she'd have to stop walking. If he grabbed her, she'd go for the groin first, then the face, two acid-drenched fingers right for the eyes. Should she even _try_ to get into the car, or would that make things more dangerous? He'd have a perfect getaway vehicle, could shove her into the passenger's seat and take her keys, and then—

"It's about the B714-LE project," he said.

Nano stopped on a dime, leaving Trellimar Toffolo to trip over himself. Now that she was properly looking at him, she could see his eyes—large, liquid, a rich and unnatural purple—and her heartbeat kicked up to a thunder. A bead of slime dripped off her knuckle.

"The _what?"_ she demanded. There was the slightest tremor in her voice. He was undoubtedly Powered in one way or another. If he was one of Medical's people—and he'd have to be, if he knew the official designation of a Section B project—then there were only a few reasons he'd be accosting her out here. None of them were any good.

"It's—" he began, and stopped. His eyes came unfocused, going flat and glassy. He choked out a stilted, pained whimper and stopped breathing. He crumpled, joint by joint, and Nano rushed to catch him before he split his head open on the asphalt. Just as she lowered him to the ground, confused and unsettled, he started seizing. His whole body vibrated and shuddered, all the tendons in his neck stood out, his breath came in ragged, sporadic gasps through his nose. Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth, spit spilling over his lips while his eyelids fluttered rapidly. Nano got him onto his side and tried to keep his head off the ground, looking around for any sort of help. Some cars were nosing around farther off. There were no pedestrians she could call out to. She went for her phone, heart in her throat.

Just when she'd fumbled the phone out, the seizure stopped, and Trellimar subsided, panting and drenched in sweat. His eyelids drifted shut as his breath started to come more steadily, a distressed moan on nearly every exhalation. Her phone still in hand, Nano looked him over for some sort of medical ID, and almost immediately spotted the bracelet on his right wrist. Gingerly, she lifted his arm up and looked at it. There was a square metal plaque clipped to a blue plastic band, engraved with four lines of text.

 _TRELLIMAR TOFFOLO  
_ _KATHERINE 07335 408544  
_ _Call 999 If Seizure 5+ Minutes  
_ _DON'T FRET_

Nano dropped his arm and rubbed her head. She turned to her phone, dizzy from adrenaline, wondering if she ought to still call an ambulance for him, or at least try to contact Katherine, whoever she was. Hopefully a mother or sister or something similar. Before she could decide, Trellimar tried to form some sort of word, mush-mouthed and breathless. Nano looked around and realized that they were nearly in the middle of the road. She stuffed her phone back into her pocket and grabbed him under the armpits, then dragged him between two cars. It wasn't an easy task—in addition to being nearly a foot and a half taller than her, he was also chubby—and he whimpered desperately while she hauled him along, his head lolling. She set him down and then sat next to him, too shaky to crouch and certainly unwilling to leave him there. It took a few more minutes for him to get around to coherence, and all his movements were hopelessly clumsy.

"Time?" he croaked at last, putting a hand to his forehead.

"I'm—sorry?" said Nano.

Trellimar huffed out a breath. He tried to sit up, and Nano helped him. He propped himself up on a hand, the other palm still pressed to his forehead.

"The thing," he said. "Seizure. How long. . . ?"

"Oh," said Nano. "I—I don't know. I'm sorry. Less than five minutes. I'm pretty sure. I wasn't really—"

He waved her off, but didn't say anything else. He looked like he was having a difficult time keeping from throwing up.

"Um," said Nano. "Is—is there someone I should call, or . . . d'you need a ride or anything?"

"Ride," he said. "Yeah. I—ride's . . . good. I think. Sorry, what time is it? Where . . . are we?"

He blinked around at the cars on either side, like he'd been looking at the sun just a little too long.

"It's about . . . quarter past five?" Nano said. "We're in the car park outside the Research and Materials Building. YogLabs."

"Right," Trellimar mumbled. "Right, and I've just—flagged you down."

"You mentioned some Section B project," said Nano.

"Shit," he hissed, pressing the knuckle of his thumb to his forehead.

"What?"

"I don't—no, sorry, I . . . I'm not. . . ."

"It's fine, it's fine," she assured him. "Don't worry about it. Should I—look, my car's about thirty meters off, d'you want me to bring it round?"

"If . . . yeah," said Trellimar. "I . . . might throw up in it."

"We'll roll down the window," said Nano. "Hang tight."

She got up and hurried to her car, then brought it around slowly to where Trellimar was waiting. She parked it in the middle of the road and popped the passenger-side door open, then went and helped Trellimar over. He was shaky, uncoordinated, and clearly exhausted. She made sure he was well situated and buckled in, then shut his door and went around to the driver's side.

"Where to?" she asked, starting the car again.

"Er," he mumbled. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open, let alone staying upright. "Hm. Let's—I think my . . . my partner's flat. I'll give you the address."

"All right," said Nano. She fished out her phone, unlocked it, and handed it to Trellimar. "Just plug it in there, it can do navigation."

He fiddled with the phone for a moment while she made her way out of the car park. Soon, a cool, robotic voice instructed her to turn left, and Trellimar set the phone down near the gear shift.

"Just let me know if you need me to pull over," Nano said.

"Yeah," Trellimar said. "No, I . . . I should make it. 'M okay."

Not two minutes out of YogLabs, he put both hands on the dashboard and stuck his head between his knees.

"Nope," he croaked. "Nope, no, I'm—nope, sorry—"

Nano pulled over as quickly as she could. Trellimar fumbled the door open and immediately threw up on the ground outside.

"Sorry," he managed. "Sorry, I—"

He threw up again. Nano turned the engine off and the radio on. After a couple of minutes, Trellimar sat back in his seat, although he left the door open.

"It's the—motion sickness," he said faintly, gesturing.

"Yeah, I got that," said Nano. "You all right to keep going, or d'you need a minute?"

"Just . . . a minute, yeah," said Trellimar.

"D'you mind if I call my wife, while we're stopped?" Nano asked. As always, the phrase _my wife_ sent a flush of warmth through her, even in such exceptional circumstances.

"Not a bit," Trellimar said. Nano picked up her phone, exited out of the navigation, and called Lomadia. She answered on the sixth ring.

 _"Hi Nano."_ Just the sound of her voice was enough to settle half of Nano's unrest. She sounded groggy, and was probably still in bed, considering the hour.

"Hi, sweetheart," Nano sighed. "Um, I'm going to be a bit late getting home today, just so you know. There was a bit of a . . . well, not an _emergency,_ exactly, but a situation. I should be there in an hour or so."

 _"Oh,"_ said Lomadia. _"Okay. What happened?"_

"Well, um, I was talking to somebody and they had a—a seizure?" She glanced at Trellimar.

 _"He,_ and yeah, tonic-clonic," he mumbled. He had his eyes closed, his head tipped back against the seat.

"He had a seizure," Nano told Lomadia. "I'm giving him a ride home."

 _"Is he okay?"_ Lomadia asked.

"Mostly?" said Nano.

_"Okay. That's good. Are you okay?"_

"Yeah, I'm—I'm fine, sweetheart," said Nano. "I just didn't want you to worry about me being late."

_"All right, I won't worry, then. D'you want me to call for food? It'll be here when you get home then."_

"God, Lom, you're a saint," Nano gushed. She could almost hear Lomadia's wings fluffing at the praise.

 _"Yeah,"_ she said humbly. _"I'll get the Thai place because it's your favorite."_

"I adore you," said Nano. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

_"It's okay. D'you mind if Panda and everybody come over too? Only Panda fed us last time and he loves the Thai place, too, and it's not fair to just have him over and nobody else."_

"I really don't care, sweetheart, so long as I don't have to cook anything," said Nano.

_"Okay. I'll invite them, then. See you soon."_

"As soon as possible," said Nano. "Love you, sweetheart."

_"Love you too. Bye."_

"Bye."

Nano hung up and looked to Trellimar. "Ready to get going?" she asked.

"We can only hope," he said. Without opening his eyes, he groped for the door and hauled it closed. Nano started the car and nosed out into traffic again.

Fortunately, they made it the rest of the way without having to stop again. Trellimar got out his own phone and let his partner know he was outside while sitting on the hood of Nano's car in the car park. She sat with him, kicking her feet. Soon, a stocky figure came striding out, extraordinarily bouncy and dressed in all black. Nano's eyes nearly fell out of her head.

 _"Fox?"_ she said, disbelieving.

"Dr. Sounds?" Fox cried, equally incredulous. "What're _you_ doing here?"

"I've just brought _him_ from YogLabs," Nano said, cocking a thumb at Trellimar. "Are you—"

"Yeah yeah, he's my boyfriend," Fox said. Xe walked up to Trellimar and took his hands, looking him over critically. "What've you driven him here for?"

"He . . . well, we were talking, and he. . . ." Nano said. She trailed off, uncomfortable.

Fox hardened. Xe looked hard at Trellimar, who shrank under the attention.

"Had a seizure," Fox said, "did he?"

"Er, yeah," said Nano.

"Well!" said Fox. Xe turned from Trellimar and clapped Nano on the shoulder. "Thanks for bringing him. I'll take him off your hands. D'you want petrol money, or—"

"No, no, don't worry about it," said Nano. Her guts were knotted with a premonition of dread. Her spine was tingling. Something wasn't right.

"Thanks," Trellimar mumbled, sliding off the hood of her car. Fox looped one of his arms around xyr shoulders and put a hand on his waist.

"C'mon, Trell," xe said. "We'd better get you horizontal. You look like shit."

"Thanks," he said, much more dryly.

Fox thanked Nano one last time and then helped Trellimar away, scolding him profusely. Nano sat on the hood of her car for a moment more, then slowly got inside.

She pulled out her phone and made a note.

_Project B714-LE._

* * *

 

By the time Nano got home, the food was already there and laid out in the kitchen, ready to be served. She went and sat down while the others helped themselves. Lomadia brought her a plate of Pad Thai and a couple of eggrolls, then kissed her head.

"Mm, thank you, sweetheart," said Nano, leaning against her as she perched on the back of the couch.

"Of course," said Lomadia.

"Thanks for having us over," Panda said, settling on the floor near the couch. "Was work horrendous again? It looks like it was fucking horrendous."

 _"The worst,"_ Nano groaned. "Bebop's gone apeshit over Lal punching him—"

"Sorry," said Lalna. Nano waved them off.

"He deserved it," she said. "And so of course I've had to twist Strife's arm so I can have good lawyers, and _then_ that dead bloke's sister came through demanding to know everything about everything, and of course I couldn't tell her _anything,_ and just—ugh. _Uggggggh."_

"And then somebody had a seizure while you were leaving," Lomadia said.

"Right!" said Nano. "So of course I had to deal with _that,_ too, because I couldn't very well leave him twitching in the middle of the fucking car park. D'you know, it turned out he's Fox's boyfriend?"

Rythian nearly spat a mouthful of tea all over the flat. _"Fox_ has a _boyfriend?"_ he cried.

"Why's that surprising?" Lomadia asked, her wings fluffing up.

"I—it's just—have you _met_ Fox?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course I have, xe's my supervisor," Lomadia said, frowning.

"It—it _boggles_ the mind," said Rythian, shaking his head. "I can't—what was he like? The boyfriend. Apart from—having seizures."

Nano blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. She dug into her Pad Thai, because if she waited to answer everyone's questions, she'd never get a chance to eat.

"I dunno," she said, after the first mouthful. "Tall. Bit awkward. _Enormous_ hair. Pretty sure he's Powered, and _speaking_ of which. Lal, d'you know of any Powers that cause seizures?"

Lalna frowned, their eyes dimming ever so slightly.

"There's some recorded cases of comorbidity," they said. "But loads of things cause seizures and it doesn't look like anybody's ever directly correlated 'em with Powers. Why?"

"I dunno. Fox got a bit odd when I told xem he'd had a seizure. Accusatory, almost."

"Zylus only got migraines when he used his Powers too much," Lomadia said. "D'you think it's like that?"

"I dunno," said Nano. "I probably shouldn't've brought it up. He just gave me a bit of an odd feeling, that's all. Like he was _up_ to something."

"You think maybe he's a telepath?" Panda asked.

"Fucking hell, I hadn't even thought of that," said Nano, her blood thickening. She rubbed her head. "And I rode about in a car with him for like an hour."

"Did he ask you questions?" Rythian said. "I don't think they can really— _get_ things, if you're not thinking about them."

"No, he didn't," said Nano. "But he mentioned some project from Medical, and then just— _bang._ Gone. Out. Afterwards he was pretty much useless. Honestly it's a wonder he was conscious at all."

"This seizure," Nilesy mused. "Was it _directly_ after he mentioned the project?"

"You don't think somebody _induced a seizure_ to make him keep his mouth shut," Nano said, staring at him.

Nilesy shrugged. "It's YogLabs. I'd believe it."

"This is all super speculative," said Lalna. "What's his name? I could look him up."

"Trellimar Toffolo," Nano said. Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"That's odd," they said.

"What's odd?" said Panda.

"The only Trellimar Toffolo I can find is a custodian at Strife Solutions," said Lalna. "He's not Registered, either, or if he is, it's under a different name."

"Well, if he's a telepath, that makes sense," said Panda. "I mean, if you're a janitor, you can get in just about anywhere, and you've got an excuse to hang about spying on people. Plus, Zy always said you'd have to be an idiot to Register, as a telepath. He was sort of paranoid, though."

"But maybe right," said Nano. "He was right about an awful lot of things. I keep running up on them, it's infuriating."

"Um," Rythian said quietly.

"Every time we had those bets about when somebody would show up, he always won," said Lomadia. "It was frustrating."

"Even just like, that fortune-cookie bollocks he'd spout," Nano said, shaking her head. "It was _just_ about prophetic half the time."

"Guys," said Rythian.

"It really _was_ fortune-cookie bollocks, wasn't it," said Panda, rolling his eye. "Purple prose, most of it, and that's coming from _me._ He was awfully fond of metaphors."

"All those crosswords gave him too many big words," Lomadia said. "He used them _incessantly."_

"Ah, yeah," Nilesy said wistfully, smiling up at the ceiling. "Remember how he convinced everyone I was crazy and then raped me twice weekly for a month? Good times."

Utter silence fell. Nano's insides squirmed. Slowly, the smile drained off of Nilesy's face.

"Um," Nano said.

"I let you all keep your _delusions_ about what sort of a person you thought he was, out of the kindness of my heart," Nilesy said quietly, his voice shaking. "And _all I ask_ in return is to not be _constantly_ fucking reminded of how _little_ you care about me."

"Of course we care about you," Lomadia said, wounded. Nilesy rounded on her in fury.

"If you gave one single _fuck_ about me, the only time you'd mention him would be to say how much you hope he's burning in _h_ _ell_ _,"_ he snarled. He paused, reined himself in, and spoke more calmly. "I have come to terms with the fact that you don't care about me. I have come to terms with the fact that you're the closest thing to friends I'm ever going to have, _piss-poor_ as you are."

"Nilesy—" Panda began.

"Don't _fucking_ talk about him in front of me," he said, his voice cracking. He swallowed, looked away. He shrank in on himself, becoming small and pale and fragile. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"You don't have to be," said Rythian.

Nilesy sat for a second, then got up and walked out of the flat, abandoning the rest of his food. The door swung to with a loud _thud_ behind him.

"I'm just—" Rythian said, gesturing vaguely. He divested himself of his plate and his drink and scuttled out after Nilesy. Panda had a hand over his eye, his face twisted with remorse.

"I forgot we weren't supposed to talk about Zylus," Lomadia said meekly.

"That's probably why Rythian was trying to interrupt," Lalna said, nodding sagely.

Nano heaved a sigh and got to her feet.

"I'm going to bed," she declared, and left before anybody could say otherwise.

* * *

 

At two-thirty in the morning, Nano woke from another horrific nightmare. The blankets were tangled around her legs, her heart hammering in her chest and stopping her breath. The flat was oppressive, imposing, filled with half-formed terrors. She staggered to the bathtub, flicking on every light along the way, shaking and panting. She stripped off her pajamas and curled up, sobbing, her eyes wide open and her back to the wall. The fear did not subside with time. Her hands felt filthy, grimed. There was a knot in her back that wouldn't go away, a churning sickness in her stomach.

Somehow, she managed to find the courage to go and get her phone. She brought it back to the bathroom with her, curling up in the tub again. She wore a nitrile glove on one hand to keep from getting slime on the phone.

It took her a long, long time to decide where to turn for help. Lomadia was at work, and besides, Nano wasn't sure she could explain it in a way that she would understand. Lalna was out of the question. Panda, she'd already burdened enough with her troubles. Nilesy was still barely treading water in his own traumas, and somehow reaching out to Rythian just felt wrong. She felt like she'd end up comforting him, rather than the other way around.

She wished Zylus was there. His contact was still in her phone. If anyone could have helped, it would have been him.

 _You don't_ _ ever _ _come back from murder. There'sh no getting better._

Despite everything, it would have been him.

In the end, she picked the person she thought was most likely to understand.

 _I need your help,_ she texted. _I'm_ _not hurt but I'm_ _scared and I don't_ _want to be alone_ _._ _I'm so sorry about earlier._ _Please._

Despite the lateness of the hour, it took less than two minutes for Nilesy to reply.

_Where are you?_

_My place,_ she answered.

 _Fifteen_ _minutes,_ he said.

Sniffling, Nano put her phone aside and somehow found the courage to rinse off. She stayed in the bathtub until she heard a knock at the door. She pulled on her cheap polyester dressing gown and went to answer.

Nilesy stood on the doorstep. He lifted up a small grocery bag.

"Brought biscuits," he said. "I can start some tea, if you like."

Though she was still sniffling, Nano managed a wan smile. She stood aside and let him in. She must have looked an absolute mess, but he didn't stare.

"Tea would be lovely," she said.

Nilesy deposited the grocery bag on the couch and went into the kitchen, bustling about and humming tunelessly to himself. Nano settled on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, and investigated the bag. There were no fewer than four boxes of biscuits inside, all different flavors. Nano almost burst into tears again.

"Decaf? Herbal? High test?" Nilesy asked from the kitchen.

"Um, peppermint," said Nano.

"Will do," said Nilesy.

Nano opened up a box of peanut butter biscuits and started picking them out one by one, eating slowly and methodically. Eventually Nilesy came and sat down on the couch with her, handing her a cup of tea.

"It's hot," he warned. Nano set aside the box of biscuits and wrapped her hands around the mug. It burned her palms a little, but it was better than nothing. Nilesy sipped his own tea and made a face.

"What've I just said?" he grumbled. _"It's hot._ Don't know _what_ I'm doing."

Nano shook her head sympathetically. "It's like . . . three in the morning, I don't blame you," she said.

"Sure, we'll go with that," said Nilesy.

A few minutes passed in silence. The tea cooled enough that Nano could sip it. It didn't do much to settle her stomach, but it did help her stop shaking. Nilesy, for his part, didn't ask any questions, didn't start any conversation, just sat and waited and sipped his tea, opened another box of biscuits and had a few.

"I . . . I've been . . . having nightmares," Nano said at last. Nilesy looked at her, but didn't say anything. "A-about . . . Sips. Or—not exactly—but just . . . what I did. What happened. And I can't—I think it's getting worse, and I don't know what to do, and I just. . . ."

He looked her up and down, his face drawn with concern.

"Yeah," he said. "Know the feeling."

"It's . . . I try not to think about it, and I _know_ that's not helping, but I can't, I just feel so—so _awful,_ and I can't stand it, but—but sometimes it's _Lom_ and I—"

She was clutching the mug too tightly, tears slipping down her cheeks, a crushing pain in her chest.

"Been there," said Nilesy. "It's the fucking _worst."_

"Just—Nilesy, what do I _do?_ How do you—how do you _live_ with something like this, how do you wake up in the morning and just—keep _going,_ how. . . ?"

"Nano, I might be the literal worst person in the world to ask that," Nilesy said, half-laughing. She frowned at him, confused, and he mimed hanging himself. Nano's stomach knotted, and she looked away with a gulp.

"Sorry," she croaked. "I'm—I'm sorry, I didn't even think. . . ."

Very gently, he touched her arm with two knuckles.

"You might ask Lom," he said. "Or Panda. Or Rythian, for that matter. They all seem to deal with it all right. But—and this is going to be the strangest thing that's ever come out of my mouth—I'd recommend therapy of some sort."

"I can't just—tell some psychiatrist I've _killed_ someone," Nano said, choked up.

"You haven't really got to," said Nilesy. "'Course, I might only be able to get away with it because I say, _Oh, my alter's a homicidal maniac,_ and what they hear is _sometimes I_ _fantasize about murder_ _."_

Nano snorted and got snot all over her face, then had to go find some tissues. Nilesy was still on the couch when she got back, placidly munching on biscuits.

"I just . . . it's the murdering bit that's fucked me up," she said. "How does it not . . . eat you up? I mean, how do you. . . ?"

"Well, it did. It does," he said, keeping his eyes strictly averted. "But this _lovely_ fellow came along and told me I hadn't earned a way out yet, and I took that to heart. Wouldn't recommend that strategy, though, hahah. Side effects."

Nano squirmed, still more guilt piling up in her stomach. Nilesy sighed.

"Part of what's helped is . . . having someone to blame," he said. "Now that Vee's got a name and—well, something approaching a face, it's got easier to say, _no, that wasn't me, it was him._ And that helps in the moment, even if it's not really . . . true. It _was_ me. Part of me, anyway. Also: wouldn't recommend dissociating. _Far_ too much hassle in the long run."

"I'll . . . I'll try to avoid that," said Nano, managing a faint smile.

"Can I ask you something?" said Nilesy.

"Sure."

"Have you told Lom about all this?"

Nano shrugged, making a face.

"No," she admitted. "Not yet. I—I didn't want her to worry, is all."

"Can I make a suggestion, then?" said Nilesy. _"Talk to your fucking wife._ God's sake."

"I—well," said Nano. She huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh. She had another biscuit. "I'm not sure she'd, y'know, understand."

"Oh, she won't," said Nilesy, offhanded. "Never did with me, either. Doesn't mean she can't help. Doesn't mean she wouldn't want to know."

Nano shrugged again, uncomfortable. She had a few more biscuits. Her stomach and teeth were starting to ache, but she couldn't be bothered to care. Eventually, Nilesy sighed.

"The truth is, I don't have the answer you're looking for," he said. "And I don't think there is one. If there was an easy way, believe me, I'd tell you. I can't rescue you. _But,_ I can throw you something that floats, if you like. And I think I've been catching a few glimpses of shore."

"Hang on, you stole that from me," Nano said damply.

"No no, it's a callback," said Nilesy. "Narrative symmetry. Panda's told me all about it. When they make a movie of your life, it'll be very profound, not a dry eye in the house—"

She smacked him in the arm and he leaned away, grinning. The expression faded quickly, and he dropped his eyes.

"I mean it, though," he said. "I can't do much, but I'll do what I can. Whenever you need it. Or I can go away and shut up, if that's what you'd prefer."

"I—" Nano began, and stopped. She hung her head, bile rising in her throat. "I thought it'd get easier. I keep telling myself there was no way round it, that—that I _had_ to do it, that I was . . . protecting Lom and Lalna and everyone, but . . . but it doesn't help. And—and everyone after that, too, it was like, I didn't even _try_ to . . . _not_ kill them. I didn't even think about it. Like, sure, okay, they were trying to kill Panda, and one of them had actually shot him, but—but they were still _people,_ they had lives and families and friends, and—and Lal was _right,_ they were so _right,_ we're—it was _monstrous,_ it was criminal, it was—it was—"

"Unforgivable," Nilesy said quietly.

"Yes!" Nano burst out. "Yes, and I can't just let that _go,_ I can't just—rationalize it away! _So many people_ are dead because of us, not just the ones I—the ones _I_ . . . killed, but—but Pyrion and—and Turps, and the _Director,_ for fuck's sake! And it—and it's not just that, it's—it's that every time I get a knot in my shoulder I can't breathe for _hours,_ and every time I feel sick I _know_ it's going to happen again, it's going to start all over again, and I can't think and I can't stop and it's in all of my fucking dreams—"

Nilesy nodded, patient. Nano buried her face in her hands.

"I'm not making any sense," she moaned. "It's so stupid, I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore."

"Here, let me put on my Scott-face," said Nilesy. He spoke again, affecting an exaggerated Bristol accent, an over-the-top sympathy. "It hasn't got to make sense. Maybe it's just got to be said!"

Nano sniffled, shaking her head. "I just—I can't," she said. "I can't relax. I can't sleep. Half the time I can't eat, or else I'm eating everything I can get my hands on, and _that_ scares me, too, because it's like—it's like _what're you building up energy for, body? What the fuck are you plotting in there?_ And then I get worried if I _don't_ worry, like if I'm not scared all the time I'll miss something and it'll all go wrong. I'm always waiting for the next thing to go wrong. And now someone's tried to kill Lal and I _know_ it's starting again, and I don't know where to look or what to look for, I don't know where it's coming from but I _know_ it's coming, and I almost lost them, and I don't know who's going to be next and there's _nothing_ I can do. . . ."

He touched her arm again. She reached out and took his hand, carefully.

"We've got more eyes than just yours," he said gently. "When it comes, we'll be ready."

She could only shake her head again, shivering. He squeezed her hand.

"Besides, the way I heard it, you already saved Lal's life," he said. "So that's one thing you've done."

"I should've done better," she mumbled. "I just—cut out a chunk of their brain. I should've been able to find what was wrong and fix it. Now we've got no idea what happened or who did it, because I couldn't do any better. I mean, I've got a _doctorate_ in this, I should be able to fix some stupid bit of code."

"Nano, listen to me," said Nilesy. "Nobody knows everything. Nobody gets it right a hundred percent of the time."

"I should've got it right _this time."_

"You're not a fucking brain surgeon," Nilesy scoffed. "And Lal's a lot less of a computer than any of us like to think. Computers can't do what Lalna can. There's a _reason_ there's nothing else like them in the world. Just because you can't keep up with the work of someone whose _Power_ was to be a fucking supergenius doesn't mean you're a failure."

Nano didn't respond. Although his hand was cold, she still took some comfort from the strength of his grip.

"Oy, half-mum," he said, squeezing her hand. "It'll be all right. You haven't got to do this alone."

She cracked the smallest of smiles. "You haven't called me that in ages," she said.

"I know," he said. "But it's not stopped being true."

"I feel like I need to _do_ something," she said. "But there's nothing to do. There's nothing I can do until the next thing goes wrong."

"You could find a therapist," said Nilesy. "Personally I'm not a fan of medication, but I've heard there's some that do wonders. Or you could just find someone to talk to. I can give you Scott's number if you like, he's all right."

"Coming from you, I feel like that's high praise," Nano said, wiping her eyes with her thumb.

"It is," said Nilesy.

"I'll—I'll look into it," she said, though her voice shook. "In the morning. Or—in the—you know what I mean."

"I do," said Nilesy. "D'you mind if I let go of your hand, though? It was all right at first, but now it's gone a bit awkward and you're all sweaty—"

Nano let go of his hand and then wiped her palm on his arm. He glowered at her, though he was clearly fighting down a smile.

"You keep that up and next time I'm not bringing you any biscuits," he warned.

"How will I _ever_ survive," she said, rolling her eyes.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Pan, Tophatgoat, & all those who offered to help me with writing more overtly-trans Lomadia!

"Ah, young Ms. Strife, good to see you."

Lomadia wrinkled her nose at Layla, shaking out her wings as she alighted on the roof. It wasn't raining as much as it had been a few hours ago, but it was still drizzling enough to be unpleasant.

"You're not funny," she said. "You say that every time and it's still not funny."

"The family resemblance is uncanny," said Layla, grinning.

"I'm going to throw you off this roof," Lomadia warned.

 _"_ _Truly_ uncanny," said Layla. "I guess nobody's watching the watchmen tonight, huh. Everyone'll know it was you anyway."

"You can go away now," Lomadia said, glaring at her.

Layla shrugged, adjusting the rifle hanging from her shoulder. "Maybe I'll keep you company for a while. I haven't got anywhere to be."

"If you don't go away I'm going to throw you off the roof," Lomadia said.

"Nah, c'mon, it's quality banter!" said Layla. "Have a sense of humor."

"I've got a sense of humor," said Lomadia. "You're just not funny."

Layla rolled her eyes. "You're no fun at all," she grumbled. "Nobody's tried to scale the building yet. Hope you're bored out of your freakish skull."

Lomadia's talons clenched, scoring ruts into the asphalt roof. Her blood was boiling, her heartbeat throbbing in her wings. Layla turned, waving over her shoulder.

"Good luck, Ms. Strife," she called, unlocking the door back into the building. Lomadia clenched her teeth until Layla was inside the the door was closed. She fluffed up her wings, seething, with absolutely nowhere to put it.

She flew down to the big light-up sign and pulled some of the wires out. Then she pulled some more wires out. Then she had an idea and pulled some _more_ wires out.

When Lomadia flew back up to the roof, the big _STRIFE SOLUTIONS_ sign now simply read, _I   S LUT._

She settled in to her nightly watch, perhaps a bit too pleased with herself.

* * *

 

Dawn was just starting to brighten the sky when Lomadia's phone started buzzing. There had been nothing of note all night, just as on most nights. The area around Solutions Tower was always quiet. She usually spent the first few hours hanging out near Strife's office and listening to his conversations.

Lomadia answered her phone, even though she technically wasn't supposed to take personal calls while she was on duty. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing _ever_ happened.

The caller ID just said _Private Number._ Lomadia tried to answer professionally, like Nano would have.

"Hi, this is Lomadia," she said. "Who's this?"

 _"It's me,"_ Nilesy said.

"What's wrong?" Lomadia asked, her wings flaring out in alarm. "Who's hurt?"

 _"Noth—no_ _body_ _, Lom,_ _no_ _body_ _'s_ _hurt_ _,"_ he said. He sounded exhausted. _"But Nano's just called me over, talking about nightmares and what have you_ _._ _I think it's got something to do with her taking ill last year, plus that business in Leeds._ _It's the usual unbearable cocktail of paranoia and guilt, I'm sure you remember_ _that_ _old chestnut."_

"I do," said Lomadia, a hollow sort of pain in her chest.

 _"She doesn't want for you to take off work to come look after her, but I thought you might like to know,"_ he said. _"I think it'll be easier for her to talk about it with you if you start. And, d'you know, I thought you might like to take off work anyway, being that she's your wife and all."_

"Is she okay?"

 _"No, I don't think she is,"_ Nilesy sighed. _"But she'll keep a few more hours. I got her a load of biscuits, should last her."_

"Why'd she call _you?"_ Lomadia asked.

_"She didn't say, exactly, but if I had to take a guess I'd say it's because I'm the one she associates the most with murder."_

"Or maybe because you had nightmares, too," said Lomadia. "Or . . . have nightmares. I dunno."

Nilesy paused. _"Ha_ _ve_ _,"_ he said. He went on in a more bracing tone. _"At any rate, she's not happy, but she's not in any real trouble, either. Just thought you ought to know."_

"Thanks," said Lomadia. "Where're you, anyway?"

 _"About halfway between your place and mine,"_ said Nilesy. _"Why?"_

"Because I want to talk to you, too," she said.

 _"You'd better talk to your wife, first,"_ he warned.

Lomadia shifted her weight. "Yeah, okay, but I still want to talk to you. It isn't anything bad."

_"Lom, it's five o'clock in the goddamn morning. I'm going to go back to my room and pass out, if you don't mind."_

"I could come by later, then," she said. "Whenever you're awake again."

 _"If you must,"_ Nilesy sighed. _"D'you mind telling me what it's about?"_

"It's about saying I'm sorry," Lomadia said, her voice soft with remorse.

Again, Nilesy took his time to answer.

 _"_ _Don't see why that can't be done over the phone_ _,"_ he said.

"Because it doesn't feel right," she said. "And I want you to believe me when I tell you, and I don't think you will if it's over the phone."

 _"I believe you, Lom,"_ he said, but it was not with gentleness. It was closer to resignation. _"I believe you're sorry. All of you. But sorry doesn't fix anything. And apparently it doesn't change anything, either."_

"I'll get better," she promised. "I'll get better, about not talking about him. I will. We all will."

 _"It's been six months, Lomadia,"_ he said coldly. _"You should've_ _already_ _got_ _there_ _."_

And he hung up on her.

Lomadia stared at her phone, a lump in her throat and a prickling in her sinuses. She sniffled. She fluffed up her wings and held the phone against her chest.

The rain tapered off. Above, the dawn-grayed clouds were starting to shred apart, revealing tatters of purple sky. Lomadia spent some time collecting her thoughts, reorganizing the pieces of her heart. She sent Nano a text.

 _D_ _o_ _you need me to come home?_

She slipped the phone back into her pocket and made a quick walking circuit of the roof, just to stretch her legs. As usual, nothing was amiss. By the time she got back to her roosting spot, Nano had replied to her message.

_Oh God what did Nilesy tell you??_

Lomadia smiled at the phone, still sniffling. She wiped her nose on the back of her wrist.

 _Just that you were really upset and I might maybe want to come home early,_ she said. _D_ _o_ _you want me to come home early?_

_No. Sort of. I don't want you to get in trouble at work._

_I don't care. I can't get fired._

_I feel like you maybe could. You haven't got to come home, I'm all right._

_If you're sure......._

_I'm sure. Besides, it's Saturday, I haven't got to work. I can wait up._

_Okay, I love you lots <3_

_I love you too, sweetheart. I'll see you in a couple of hours <3_

Lomadia tucked her phone into her pocket. Dawn was coming on swiftly. She fluffed up her wings and settled in for the last dull hours of her shift.

* * *

 

The moment her shift ended, Lomadia went straight back to the flat as quickly as she could. She let herself in quietly, in case Nano was sleeping—and indeed, there she was, curled up on the couch under a blanket stolen off the bed. There were two empty boxes of biscuits on the floor near her, two empty mugs on the table. Moving stealthily, Lomadia went and put the kettle on.

While it was rumbling up to full boil, she slipped over and settled on the couch next to Nano, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. Nano stirred, turning her shoulders and lifting her head slightly. She made a cute little _mmp_ noise, blinking her eyes open.

"Hi," said Lomadia. "It's me."

"Mm, hi, sweetheart," Nano mumbled. Lomadia leaned in and kissed her, rubbing her shoulder with her thumb.

"I've put the kettle on," she mentioned.

"You're the best," Nano said, her voice all gummy with sleep. She slid her arms around Lomadia's waist and cuddled up to her, shifting her legs over to the other side. Lomadia folded a wing over her and stroked her hair.

"I could do breakfast, too, if you want," she said.

"Ugh, no, I'm still all stuffed full of biscuits," Nano said.

"Aw," said Lomadia. She kissed Nano's head. The kettle whistled. Lomadia extracted herself from Nano's arms and went to tend to it. When she came back to the couch, Nano wriggled up into her lap, pillowing her head on Lomadia's thigh.

"I'm glad you're home," she said, drawing little circles on Lomadia's knee with her fingers.

"Me, too," said Lomadia. She went back to petting Nano's hair, combing it back over her ear and running her fingers down Nano's neck. For a long time, neither of them spoke. The motions of Nano's hand slowed and then stilled, and her eyes drifted open, staring at nothing. The corners of her mouth were turned down, the bags under her eyes heavy. She took a slow breath and sighed.

Lomadia waited for her to speak, but she didn't.

"He said it was nightmares," Lomadia said, keeping her voice as soft as she could. Nano closed her eyes, swallowing. "You haven't got to talk about it if you don't want to. But I'm listening."

Nano took some time to respond. Her hands had clenched, her breathing gone short and shallow. Lomadia could hear her heart racing.

"I wish I hadn't killed them," she whispered. Her eyes welled with tears, and her breaths shuddered as she took them. "I wish—I wish somebody else had done it, or something else had happened, or _something._ I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop feeling _guilty_ about it. I can't live with it. I can't let it go. I don't—I don't know what to do. I _hate_ not knowing what I'm supposed to _do."_

"They were going to kill us," said Lomadia. "Or put us back in YogLabs, which is worse."

"I _know,_ Lom, and it doesn't _matter,"_ said Nano. Her tears were soaking into Lomadia's jeans. "It doesn't make anything better. It doesn't make it any easier."

Lomadia frowned. "They were bad people," she said. "They deserved it. That's why we went in the first place. Wasn't it?"

Sniffling, Nano sat up, leaning against Lomadia's chest. Lomadia kept an arm around her, touching her elbow, keeping them both wrapped in her wings.

"I know they were, Lom," she said. "It still feels _wrong._ I still feel guilty." She shook her head, sniffling again. "Don't s'pose you ever feel like that."

"I don't," said Lomadia. She shifted uncomfortably. "But I don't like that I don't. I know I'm supposed to. Sometimes—"

She broke off. Nano sat up straighter, looking back at her. Lomadia ducked her head, wishing she still had enough hair to hide behind.

"Sometimes?" said Nano.

Lomadia shrugged, turning her face away.

"Sometimes I think I'm probably a monster," she said. "Because I don't feel bad about killing people. Sometimes I think everybody who called me awful things was right. Sometimes I don't think I'm even human."

"God, Lom, that's—I'm so sorry," Nano said. "That's a horrible way to feel."

"It doesn't bother me, most times," she said. "Which is part of why it bothers me the other times. I should be like you. I should feel bad all the time because that's how _real_ people feel about this stuff."

"Sweetheart," Nano said, comforting. "You're real. You're as real as anybody."

"I dunno," said Lomadia. "It's not just that. My body doesn't fit right and I don't like it. Other people's bodies fit."

Nano frowned. "What d'you mean?"

She shrugged. "It just doesn't. And it's like the other stuff, most of the time it doesn't bother me. Most of the time it's good and I like it. But. . . ." She struggled to find the right words, ones that wouldn't be shot down with assurances of her perfection. "It's not quite right. I wish it was more like yours. I wish I had like . . . actual boobs, instead of just muscles. But I want to keep the muscles because they're how I fly. I've got the voice about right because I practiced lots when I first started doing Smite tournaments, but the other stuff I can't fix on my own."

Nano's eyebrows lifted and her eyes opened wide. _"Oh,"_ she said. "Well, y'know, there's ways to make that happen, if you want to. Hormone therapy works miracles, I've heard. You know what that is, right? I dunno how much research you've done, or—"

"Yeah, of course," said Lomadia. "I've got the _internet."_

"Right," said Nano, blushing. "Yeah, sorry, that was sort of . . . insulting. But, yeah, I feel like HRT might help a lot, if you want it."

"You wouldn't mind?" Lomadia asked, perking up. "If I changed a little?"

"Sweetheart, anything you need, I'm a hundred percent on board with," said Nano. "And if you feel like your body doesn't fit, then you've got _every_ right to fix that. No matter what _anybody_ thinks. Me included. First thing Monday morning, we'll make you an appointment. If you really want one, I don't want to push."

"I think that'd be okay," said Lomadia. "Just to figure out if they'd even do it for Powered people."

"They'd better," said Nano. "Or I'll have them in court so fast their bigoted little heads'll spin."

"We were supposed to be talking about you," Lomadia mumbled, blushing. "I'm not really all that bothered. You're a lot more bothered than I am."

"Well— _well,"_ Nano said. She sighed and leaned back against Lomadia again. "There's not much else to be said about it. I'm guilty all the time, I'm nervous all the time, and—that's about it, really. It's probably nothing a good therapist won't fix."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," said Lomadia. "I think they do help lots, when they're not awful. On Monday we can make _you_ an appointment, too."

Nano was quiet for a moment, chewing on her lip. Idly, she took Lomadia's hand. Her fingers were small, warm, gentle.

"Sorry, sweetheart," she said. "I just—I think I sort of talked myself out earlier."

"That's okay," said Lomadia. "We haven't got to talk about it anymore."

"Could you—but, um, could you do something for me?" she asked.

"Sure."

Nano chewed on her lip some more.

"Could you . . . check my back?" she said. "Just—feel around a bit, make sure there's no . . . weird bumps. Or anything."

"Oh," said Lomadia. "Sure."

Some of the tension went out of Nano's shoulders. "Thanks, sweetheart," she said. "I can take the robe off, if that'll help."

"If you want," said Lomadia.

"I think I'm just going to . . . do that," she said. "I just don't want you to miss anything, is all."

"Okay," said Lomadia.

Nano scooted away on the sofa. Lomadia folded both wings around her, tenting the two of them in a warm, golden space. Nano shrugged the robe off her shoulders, letting it rest at the small of her back and hang at her elbows. Carefully, Lomadia touched the base of Nano's neck. She felt down her spine, up under her shoulder blades, along her shoulders.

"Feels normal," she said. "Definitely looks normal."

Nano hung her head, letting out a breath. She slipped the robe back on, then leaned back against Lomadia, who kissed her cheek.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Nano murmured. "D'you . . . think you'd mind doing that again? On a sort of regular basis?"

"I wouldn't mind," said Lomadia. "Whenever you want."

"Even if—even if maybe one day it's _not_ normal?" she said. Her voice was shaking.

"Yeah," said Lomadia. "That's why I'm looking, isn't it? In case it's not normal."

Nano let her head loll against the crook of Lomadia's neck.

"Hey, wife?" she said.

"Mmhm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, wife," said Lomadia.

"You . . . d'you remember that . . . thing? The purple baby thing that sort of . . . came out of me?"

"The thing in the glass box? Yeah."

"Well it—it literally like . . . _came out_ of me. Like it grew out of my back."

"Ugh, that's _repugnant,"_ said Lomadia, her nose wrinkling.

Nano cracked a smile. "That's a fantastic word for it, yeah," she said. "I think it's why I was ill last year. Because it was growing up in me. I had this knot under my shoulder for . . . weeks."

"That's why you started asking for more back rubs," Lomadia said, with a flash of inspiration. "But it never helped. That's why?"

"That's why," said Nano. "But it was just—it was nothing, up until I got stuck in prison, and then all of a sudden I had these, like, _tumors,_ and then they sort of, like . . . sprung out? Into like, arms and legs and shit? It was horrible, I was horrific."

"It sounds like it would've hurt a lot," Lomadia said. She slipped her arms around Nano's waist and laced her fingers together. She shifted a bit so she could lean back against the arm of the sofa with Nano leaning on her.

"It—yeah," said Nano. "I guess . . . Lom, if that—if that happened again. If I got all—horrible and mutated and ugly again, would you—still love me?"

"Yeah," said Lomadia, baffled as to why she would even ask. "Of course I would."

The last of the tension went out of Nano. She laid her hands over Lomadia's.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said.

"I'd love the little thing that came out of you, too," Lomadia offered. "Whatever it was. If it needed loving. If there's another one and it doesn't die."

Nano got very still. She swallowed.

"Well," she said. "You're a better woman than me, I'll tell you that."

"Why?" Lomadia asked.

Nano just shook her head. She took a deep breath.

"How about that tea?" she said.

* * *

 

The two of them spent most of the day in bed, alternately napping and foraging for food. Lomadia wondered if maybe she ought to check in with Nilesy, but continued to decide against it. He probably didn't want to hear from her, and she'd already said what she wanted to say. Besides, Nano needed her more, _and_ actually definitely wanted her to be there.

She still hadn't quite gotten used to Nilesy not wanting her around.

When it was getting on towards evening, Nano got a call from Zoey asking if she and Lomadia wanted to come out on a double dinner date. Nano made some faces and wiggled a lot, but eventually deferred to Lomadia.

"Sure," Lomadia said. "If you want to go."

"Yeah," Nano said, continuing to make faces. "S'pose it'll be good for me to get out of the house for a bit."

Before they left, Lomadia spent a good ten minutes kissing Nano, just to make sure that she was kissed enough. She did get very blushy, which was always nice.

They went to a little Italian restaurant a few blocks away, one of the few places within walking distance that was quiet enough for Lomadia to actually enjoy. The sun was setting, and for once the skies were clear, painted in vibrant colors. Zoey and Fiona were already at a table when Nano and Lomadia got there, and Zoey waved them over excitedly. She and Fiona both got up and there was a lot of hugging and then the waiter came by and they had to give him their drink orders standing up and fidgeting. Lomadia squeezed into the inner seat on one side of the booth—even though it was cramped and uncomfortable, it was better than having her pinions stepped on by every passerby, not to mention greatly reducing the chances of knocking someone over if she got excited.

"I'm really glad you guys could make it," Fiona said. Her _m_ 's were nearly _n_ 's, tugged out of shape by the ropey burn scar on the right side of her face, but she was splitting the difference much better than she had been only a few months ago.

"Y'know, me too," said Nano. "It's been a hell of a week, I'll tell you what."

"Ooh, yeah, I bet," said Zoey. "It's like, you two just got back and then everything got horrible immediately which is like, super-duper not great, like at all. Oh, oh! But—how was Spain? I bet it was super nice, it seems like a really nice place for a honeymoon. Where'd you go? Did you get to see like, all the old Roman stuff and the cathedrals and the beach and things?"

"Yeah, we saw all sorts of stuff," said Lomadia. "We went to this place where all the rocks were stood up like books. And the water was really clear and pretty and it was sort of cold but that was all right. I got salt in my wings and it took _ages_ to get it back out. We saw some of the big buildings and things too but mostly it was just green places. They're quieter. We had a really really nice place to stay, it was super pretty and it had a fancy shower and a really comfy bed. I've got pictures."

"Ooh! I wanna see, can you show me?" Zoey said, leaning forward. "It sound amazing."

"It was amazing," said Lomadia, getting her phone out. "I wish it'd been more than two weeks, because it was sort of like a vacation _and_ a honeymoon and there was more stuff I wanted to see."

"Hi," Nano said to Fiona, keeping her voice low. "How're you?"

"I'm good," said Fiona, smiling to herself, watching Zoey _ooh_ and _aah_ over Lomadia's pictures. "How're you?"

"Pretty good, right now," said Nano. She leaned against Lomadia, just a bit.

"Aww, babe, we should go to Spain," Zoey said, turning to Fiona. "When've you got vacation time? You've _got_ to have vacation time by now, you've been running the Division for like, _ages,_ and everything's going great and it's all fine and they can do without you for like two weeks, right?"

"We'll have to find somebody to watch Barry," said Fiona.

"Barry?" said Nano.

"He's our dog, he's a Bernese mountain dog, he's a great big lovey fluffball," said Zoey. "I've got pictures!"

"Can I see?" Lomadia asked.

"Mm, mm!" Zoey said, nodding furiously. She got out her phone and pulled up about a billion pictures of a huge, shaggy, brown and black and white dog. There was a picture of him lying on top of Fiona, burying her almost completely.

"He's _huge!"_ Lomadia said.

"It makes him look less eatable," said Fiona. "Sometimes the bear brain gets me. Especially in spring."

"Yeah, I get bird thoughts sometimes," Lomadia said, looking up at her. "Stuff moves and I just jump on it without even like, thinking about it."

"We've lost more roombas that way," Nano said, shaking her head.

"Ooh! D'you think _you_ could watch Barry while we go to Spain?" Zoey asked. "He's super sweet, he's a big cuddly baby, he loves everybody and he's really really good—"

 _"Iiii_ don't know if we'd be able to swing that," Nano said. "Especially not as busy as things are."

"Oh," said Zoey. "Yeah, okay, no worries! You've also got like, a little flat, that's not great for a really big dog like Barry. We can get somebody else to watch him, it's super okay! I just wanted to ask because you're like, right here and Lom thinks he's cute—you think he's cute, right?"

"He looks cute," she said. "And not super eatable."

"She gets it," said Fiona.

"Are you going to get married, too, before you go to Spain?" Lomadia asked.

"Lom," Nano sighed, putting a hand to her forehead.

"Ummmm," said Zoey, looking sidelong at Fiona.

"Probably not," said Fiona.

"Oh," said Lomadia. She shrugged. "Okay. I just wondered, because you've been together way longer than we have and we're already married."

 _"Lom,"_ Nano said, melting into the table.

"I dunno," said Zoey. "We might, later. It's not like, super important. And it's loads of work, like, all that planning and inviting people and signing things and _oof."_

"That," said Fiona.

"It _was_ sort of way too much stuff," said Lomadia, wrinkling her nose.

"And, y'know," said Fiona. She shrugged. "Just don't want to rush into anything. Stuff might come up."

"Like what?" said Lomadia.

"I dunno," said Fiona. "It's probably not good to speculate, honestly."

"It's fine, babe," said Zoey, patting her arm. "Sometimes it's just complicated! And that's okay. It can be complicated, because loads of things are complicated, and they're still good! Like computers, and nervous systems, and—and puzzles and stuff!"

The waiter came by with their drinks. Nano made some casual banter about not even having _looked_ at the menus yet. Everyone fell to deciding what they wanted, mulling over the long lists of dishes. Lomadia pretended to be deciding, even though she was going to get the same thing she always got.

She wondered if maybe she should check in with Nilesy, just because.


	12. Chapter 11

As Nilesy stormed out of Nano and Lomadia's flat, Rythian kicked himself. He winced when the door thudded shut, his ears burning in the awkward silence that followed.

"I'm just—" Rythian said, gesturing to the door. He set aside his plate and his mug of tea and scuttled out. It was pouring down rain, and Nilesy had already made it down the stairs and out of the covered part of the building. Rythian agonized over it for a good ten seconds before continuing on, out onto the pavement, which was blessedly deserted.

"Nilesy!" he called, jogging to catch him up. Nilesy was hurrying along with his head bowed and his fists clenched, already soaked.

"You shouldn't be out in this," Nilesy said, as Rythian arrived at his elbow. "You'll kill someone."

"I'm sorry," Rythian said. "About—all of that. I tried to stop them. It's just that—"

"I don't give a _fuck_ what you tried to do," Nilesy snapped. "It doesn't fucking matter whether you stop them or not. It's the fact they _forget._ It's the fact they care more about _him_ than me, and he's fucking dead!"

"That's not—"

_"True?_ The hell it isn't. They all miss him oh so fucking terribly, well _I miss_ _me_ _, Rythian!"_

Nilesy rounded on him suddenly with a sharp gesture. The rain shuddered like a bead curtain in an earthquake.

"I miss _me,"_ he repeated, his voice cracking. "I miss feeling like I'm _worth_ anything, to anyone! I miss feeling like I've got _anything_ under control, I miss feeling safe, I miss feeling _clean,_ I miss fucking getting drunk without being _consumed_ with dread for what's going to happen to me once everyone else leaves the room, I miss _trusting people!_ And they miss _him,_ they miss the son of a _bitch_ who fucking took it all from me? Oh, isn't it so fucking cute, how Zylus was right about _everything._ Everything he _ever_ said, including the fact that I'm fucking disgusting, including the fact that _no one_ will ever love me, including the fact that _none_ of you fucking care about me!"

"None of us knew he said those things, Nilesy!" Rythian said, pleading. His chest was caving in, his stomach in knots. "We do care about you. What he did was unforgivable, and—"

"Oh, no no, _you_ don't get to throw _any_ fucking stones," Nilesy interrupted. "After you fucking _used_ me, after you tossed me out like _garbage_ and then kept right on fucking me anyway, you don't get to say a fucking _word,_ Rythian! You think I couldn't tell how much you _hated_ yourself for it, you think that didn't fucking _hurt?_ You're _just fucking like him!"_

"Fuck you, Nilesy!" Rythian retorted. There was a tremendous _zzzzzap!_ and a flickering blue light as he arced into the rain. "Fuck you and your stupid victim complex! You take _every single opportunity_ you're presented with to push us away, _every single time_ somebody reaches out to you, you bite them in the hand! _Yes,_ I fucked up! I fucked up, and I hurt you, and because I _know_ that I hurt you, I'm trying to help you now! I'm trying my god damn best to be someone who's _worth_ you, because _I love you!"_

"No you _fucking_ don't!" Nilesy snarled. The rain was lashing all around them as though driven by hurricane winds. "When have you done _anything_ for me, Rythian? I've thrown myself on every single grenade that's come at us, I have torn myself to _shreds_ trying to keep us all together, and _nobody gives a fuck!_ When have _any_ of you done _anything_ for _me?"_

Rythian floundered, thrown off-balance. His mind was full of lightning and hail. He couldn't get enough air. Nilesy stared him down, drenched and seething.

"That's what I fucking thought," he said, and stalked away into the rain.

* * *

 

After a fight like that, he couldn't very well go home. Instead, he found an awning in an alleyway to huddle under, because at this rate he really _was_ going to kill someone. Soaked to the skin, shivering with cold, he pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his arms in them, buried his face in the hollow space. His mask must have been overwhelmed by the rain, because breathing was like trying to inhale a bin bag. He took the mask off, and almost instantaneously a massive spark leapt through his lung. The pain was, in a way, welcome.

On the opposite wall, someone had spray-painted in black: _**THIS CITY EATS FREAKS.**_ Rythian had half a mind to try and scrub the slur off, fruitless as it would have been. It would at least have given him something to do. It was, he decided, utterly pointless. Even if he could get the paint off, so what? The slogan was scrawled across half the city, dropped everywhere like litter. It couldn't possibly make a difference. He'd just end up hurting himself. He'd probably end up making it worse, somehow. He'd probably end up hurting someone.

He always ended up hurting someone. He shouldn't even have gone after Nilesy. He should have kept his stupid mouth shut.

"What the fuck were you _talking_ about, _victim complex?"_ he muttered at himself, his lip curling. "It's not a fucking _complex_ if he's an _actual victim._ You idiot. Stupid, useless idiot."

_Stupid, useless idiot. You always fuck everything up. I should've thrown you out on the fucking street. Why do you always ruin everything?_

Rythian's hands tightened on his biceps until they ached. He clenched his teeth. A spark cracked through his lung. The pain was familiar.

Deserved.

Before he could sink much deeper into the mire of his mind, his phone rang. It was Lalna.

"Hi," he answered, hoarse and sniffling.

_"Hi,"_ said Lalna. _"Are you_ _back_ _home?"_

"No," he said. "I think Nilesy is. It didn't . . . go very well. Me trying to talk to him. Um. I said some stupid things and . . . he rightfully got pissed off at me."

_"You're not hurt, are you?"_

"No, I'm—I'm fine," he said. As punishment for this blatant falsehood, a spark jabbed him in the lung so hard it made him hiss through his teeth.

_"You don't sound fine,"_ said Lalna.

"I have the mask off, it's . . . clogged," he admitted.

_"Oh. I can fix that."_

"That would be—yes, thank you, Lalna," he said.

_"Where are you? Since you're not at home."_

"I don't know," Rythian sighed. "Somewhere. Under an awning. It's raining pretty hard, I just don't want to . . . yes. You know."

_"Yeah,"_ said Lalna. _"D'you want me to come and find you? I can bring an umbrella."_

"Not . . . right now," said Rythian. He coughed again, wincing. "I think I need some time."

_"Okay. Whenever you want, it's fine. Or if you want to just come home on your own, that's_ _all right,_ _too."_

"I'll be back at—at some point. Tonight. Maybe a lot later."

_"D'you want me to wait up for you?"_

"Not really."

_"I won't, then. But you can still call me whenever, I don't mind waking up."_

"Thank you, Lalna." He had to pause to cough again, his lungs twitching at the sparks leaping through them. "Are you . . . still at Nano's?"

_"Yeah. She went to bed because it was too awkward, and now Lom and Panda are being sad and quiet because they upset Nilesy. Panda especially."_

"Par for the course," Rythian muttered. "I'm just—going to sulk for a while. I'll see you tomorrow. At some point. I have to be at Solutions Tower at four, so . . . yes. Timing."

_"Oh right, the PRA_ _banquet_ _,"_ said Lalna, as though they could possibly have forgotten. _"I'll make sure I see you before that."_

"Right. Okay. Um."

_"I'll hang up now. Bye, Rythian. I love you."_

"I love you, too," he said. Lalna hung up. Rythian sighed and rested his forehead on his knees. Another big spark cracked through his lung. He wondered if it might be worth it to put the mask back on anyway.

After about fifteen minutes, the rain lessened to a drizzle, and Rythian got up and started wandering. He didn't have a place in mind, mostly just watching the pavement as he trudged along, trying to keep his temper under control and his voltage well-contained. He watched his face in the puddles, the darkened store windows. It watched him back, tired and wet and scarred and coughing incessantly. There were speckles of gray in his hair, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He'd be thirty-four in a little under two weeks.

He wondered when it was that he'd stopped being young.

At some point, his feet carried him to an old familiar haunt. The pub wasn't busy, because it was never really _busy,_ but the lights were on and there was a murmur of conversation from inside. Dripping wet as he was, Rythian didn't go in, lest the puddles that formed at his feet electrocute some unsuspecting bystander. Instead, he went and huddled up by the bins out back. There was no awning, but there was a fire escape, which sort of helped. Near him was a small gray door with no handle on the outside, emblazoned with the words _EMERGENCY EXIT: DO NOT BLOCK._

Rythian had only been there for a few minutes, lamenting the ongoing sparks in his lungs, when the door cracked open.

"Hmm," came a deep, drawling voice. "Now who could be loitering on my back doorstep at this hour?"

"A mugger," said Rythian. "Your money or your life."

"A mugger?" the man inside said. He pushed the door open a little further. He had a scruffy beard, a bulbous nose, and a shapeless gray beanie. "From what century?"

"Eighteenth," said Rythian. He coughed again, for long enough that it made his diaphragm hurt. "I have the plague."

Tom poked his head out and looked Rythian up and down.

"Jesus, Sparky, you look like a drowned rat," he said.

Rythian glared at him. "Thanks," he intoned.

"Want to come in for a bit? There's a marathon of Bug Battles on at nine and I've just made brownies."

"Regular brownies, or weed brownies?" Rythian asked. A spark set up long-term residence in his left lung and he hunched over, pressing a hand to his ribs. The spark fizzled out, leaving him wheezing.

"Er," said Tom, "well, weed brownies. Minty's told me the smell was coming up through the floorboards so I'd better cut down on the smoking or she'd throw me out."

"Good," said Rythian. Tom cracked a smile, shaking his head.

"Salty as ever, Sparky," he said. "I missed that. Come inside, it's drier."

Rythian had prepared a sharp retort, but a spark shot through his lung and all he got was a worryingly damp cough. He could taste blood on the back of his tongue. Grumbling, he shuffled inside, edging around Tom and starting down the dim stairs beyond the door. It was warmer inside, and certainly drier, although the smell of weed was still prominent. The stairs led into a small back room that Rythian had never seen before—there was a mattress on the floor, posters of shirtless (and in some cases, pantsless) men plastered up on the walls. There was a lava lamp. There was a lot of velvet.

"Move on through, it's not a tourist attraction," Tom said, coming down the stairs behind him. "Master bedroom's not for gawking, it's for entertaining."

"I'm entertained," said Rythian, eyeing the posters.

"Come off it, Sparky, don't get my poor little hopes up," Tom said, pressing a hand to his heart. "Though if you'd like to get out of those wet clothes, can't say as I'd object."

"I'm no longer entertained," Rythian said, crossing the room and pushing open the door at the far end. It led into a corridor, and then into the bean-bag strewn main room he knew so well. Tom trailed along after him. He meandered around Rythian and went off to a different room, returning a minute later dragging a space heater behind him.

"This thing's heavier than I remember," Tom said, hauling it over to the wall near an outlet. "Should've got you to get it. You're looking fitter than I remember."

"You look just about as seedy and weird as always," said Rythian. He coughed into his elbow. The taste of blood was more noticeable.

"Aw shucks," said Tom, wiping his brow. He plugged in the space heater and its coils started to glow a dull orange. "You're super."

Rythian came over and settled in front of the heater, slipping off his shoes and socks. He divested himself of his jacket, too. The warmth felt good, soaking into his bones and thawing his stiff fingers. The air was drier, too, settling the sparks in his lungs.

"I'm cold and wet," said Rythian.

"Oh, not to worry, you stay put and pretty soon you'll be hot and wet."

"Ideal," Rythian said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, from where I'm standing. 'S always been my aim to get you hot and wet."

"Did you used to be this outrageous?" Rythian asked, scowling. "Or are you worse now because you missed me?"

"Don't know what you mean," said Tom. "I've never been outrageous a day in my life. Fancy a shag?"

"How much are you paying?" Rythian said.

"Mmm, thirty an hour?"

"Thirty thousand dollars an hour?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "You flatter me."

Tom grinned. "All right, you're on," he said. He took a single step towards Rythian.

"No! Fine, okay, fine, you win," said Rythian, gone hot all over. "Now—go away."

"Should've known, Sparky," Tom said, shaking his head. "I always win. Don't play chicken with the big rooster. Could I interest you in an edible?"

"Maybe," said Rythian. "Not right now."

"Suit yourself," said Tom. "Stay as long as you like. I'm all out of customers for the night."

He meandered off, whistling to himself. Rythian scooted up a little closer to the space heater. His lungs made it known that they weren't completely done arcing, and he had another fit of coughing. Tom returned with a plate of brownies and settled on one of the bean bag chairs. He flicked the TV on and changed the channel. Soon, a raucous opening played, introducing what appeared to be a poorly-animated CGI wrestling match between various insects.

"How do you watch this junk?" Rythian asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, first I get really high," Tom said, half a brownie in his mouth.

"Ah," said Rythian. On the screen, a green wireframe of some sort of beetle loosed a leonine roar, flipping a praying mantis out of the fake ring. "I guess that would help."

Tom gestured to the brownies. "Help yourself, by the way," he said.

The wireframe beetle was now posturing in the center of the ring. There were stick insects holding up cards that said _Bug Battles._ The stick insects were wearing bikinis.

"Maybe just one," said Rythian.

* * *

 

Over the last few hours, the show had gotten a _lot_ funnier. Rythian's clothes had gone from cold and wet to warm and wet, which was definitively unpleasant, and most of them were laid out in front of the space heater to dry. Rythian was wearing a set of Tom's pajamas, lounging on a separate bean bag chair. He'd also managed to clear out his mask enough that he could still breathe while wearing it, which had stopped him from coughing up blood. The two of them had been giggling at the show for three or four episodes at least, taking the piss out of its ridiculousness. Rythian wasn't completely sure how many of Tom's brownies he'd had, but it had been at least several. He was doing _great._

While he and Tom took bets on whether the flea or the ant would win the current battle, the bead curtain at the back of the room rattled. Rythian looked back to see Minty, hair frizzing out from its bun, poking her head into the room.

"Oy, we've just cleared out—" She pulled up short, catching sight of him. Her jaw dropped. He waved to her.

"Hi," he said.

_"Rythian?"_ she cried. "What're _you_ doing here?"

He shrugged. "It was raining," he said.

"Oh thank God, I was wondering why you were wearing his clothes and I did _not_ like what was coming up," Minty said. "Is that why you've snuck in through the back, too?"

"Yes," said Rythian, blushing. "I didn't want to zap anyone. With the—you know. It's wet. Water and electricity equals dead people." He stifled a giggle at this abstract arithmetic. "I don't—I don't like that. It's not fun."

_"Well,"_ said Minty. Her eyes strayed to the plate of brownies and one eyebrow lifted. "You can leave out the front if you want, we've just kicked the last of them out."

"Oh," said Rythian. "Oh, shit, what time is it? I have things tomorrow, I have—I'm supposed to do stuff, and things."

"It's about two-thirty," said Minty. "But to look at you, I wouldn't think you could get home on your own."

"Heyyy, you can stay the night," said Tom, grinning languidly at Rythian.

"No, no, I have—there's things," said Rythian. "My-my-my partner, is, you know, might be waiting up for me, and there's— _stuff?_ And, you know. It's—yes."

"D'you want a ride?" Minty said, folding her arms.

"Yes. Very. That. Sorry. I didn't mean to, with the—" He gestured to the brownies.

"Our Tom makes them _awfully_ strong, doesn't he," Minty said.

"Guilty as charged," said Tom. "Won't object if you put me in handcuffs."

Rythian shot to his feet, his face hot. "I just—I'm just going to—my clothes, I should—I'll just—"

He gathered them all up, his hands clumsy and his vision fuzzy. He tottered back to Tom's bedroom to get changed, which was an ordeal on its own. When he turned to go, Tom was standing in the doorway.

"Don't s'pose I get a good-night kiss?" he asked.

Rythian made a face, torn. But he and Lalna _had_ talked about situations like this, despite the fact that one had yet to come up, although Lalna had probably had Panda in mind at the time, and to be fair, so had Rythian, _but_ _. . . ._

"I don't . . . I don't think my partner would be . . . okay with that," he said, hot all over.

"Eh, was worth a shot," said Tom, shrugging. "Off you go."

Rythian sidled past him, anticipating at least a slap on the ass and not getting one. He tried not to be disappointed. Back in the main room, Minty was watching the TV, one eyebrow arched in serious disbelief.

"I don't know _how_ you watch this crap," she said.

"The trick is to get really high," said Rythian.

"Yeah, I imagine that'd help. Ready to go?"

"Yes," said Rythian, running a hand back through his hair. "I—yes."

Minty tipped her head towards the door, beckoning, then headed off. Rythian followed. She brought him to a large black truck. The lights flashed and the doors unlocked as they approached. Rythian clambered into the passenger's side and fumbled to get the seatbelt on. It seemed an eternity later that Minty got in.

"Where to?" she asked.

"Home," he said.

"Which would be _where?"_ she prompted.

"Oh," said Rythian. "Right." He giggled, then bit his tongue. "Sorry. Uh. . . ."

He told her the address, and she headed off. He fell asleep within two minutes.

* * *

 

The flat was dark and quiet when Rythian got back. Even Nilesy's light was off, which really drove home how late it was. Rythian briefly considered going and snuggling up with Lalna—or even with Panda, it was seeming pretty enticing just then—but decided against it. He really was exhausted, but he was also very much in a kissing mood, and he absolutely _had_ to be well-rested for tomorrow's function. Disappointing as it was, he slipped into his own room and curled up in his own bed, hugging a pillow. Once again, he drifted off to sleep in an admirable amount of time.

He was woken too few hours later by a knock at his door. He stuffed the pillow over his head with a groan. He was at least mostly sober again.

"Rythian?" Lalna called.

_"Mmng,"_ Rythian said.

"It's about eleven o'clock. Nilesy and Panda and me are going out for lunch and a movie and maybe laser tag after," they said. "D'you want to come?"

"Can't," he said. "Stuff."

"Oh, right," said Lalna. "Can I come in?"

"Mmn."

"That wasn't a no, so I'll pretend it was a yes unless you say no for real."

"It's _fine,_ Lalna, come _in,"_ said Rythian, still muffled by his pillow.

The door opened, and the floor creaked as Lalna came in. They gently lifted the pillow off his head and kissed him.

"I said I'd see you before you left," they said softly. "So I'm seeing you."

Rythian sighed, rolling his eyes, then propped himself up on his elbow and kissed them again. He considered telling them about last night and Tom, but decided it could wait, at least until that night. Nothing had actually _happened,_ after all.

"Have fun at your movie and lunch and maybe laser tag," he said.

"We will," said Lalna. "When're you getting home?"

"I don't know," said Rythian. "Late. Um, again. Sorry."

"It's okay. You can wake me up if you want to, I won't mind."

Rythian kissed them again. "I might do that," he said. They smiled at him.

"Go back to sleep now," they said.

"Maybe I will," said Rythian. He flopped back onto the bed. Lalna placed the pillow back over his head.

On their way out, they pinched his ass and made him yelp. He could hear them sniggering as they closed the door behind them.

A few minutes later, Panda yelled some kind of taunting farewell, and the front door thudded shut. Rythian sighed and rolled over, curling up. He drifted off back to sleep, only to wake again—much too soon—to the screeching of his alarm.

Grumbling to himself, he got out of bed and shut the alarm off. He turned on the dehumidifier and hopped in the shower, because the smell of weed and back alleys was still lingering on him and he'd never hear the end of it if Strife caught a whiff. Afterwards, he put on his bodyguarding trousers—which were embarrassingly well tailored—and then retreated back to the bathroom to shave. He'd been called out on his scruffiness one too many times, and this being a highly official and prestigious event, he didn't want to spend the whole thing being given meaningful looks by Fox. As he was finishing up, there was a gentle knock at his door. Rythian nearly jumped out of his skin. Fortunately, the razor hadn't been on his face at the time.

"Rythian?" Lalna called.

"Yes, it's unlocked, come in!" he replied. He scraped the last bit of shaving cream off and wiped his face clean with a damp towel. He heard the door open, the slight creaking of floorboards as Lalna entered.

"That was either a short movie or a fast lunch," Rythian remarked, poking at the fading bruise on his chin. "Did something happen?"

"Nah," said Lalna. "I just decided I've got better things to do."

"Like what?" said Rythian, frowning. He turned his head this way and that, trying to get a better angle. In his peripheral vision, he could see Lalna in the bedroom, standing with their hands clasped behind their back.

"You?" they suggested.

Rythian made a face, now investigating the bruise on his temple where Fox had clocked him. There was a small scab in the center of it, which he picked at.

"Very funny," he said. "Did you get that one from Nilesy?"

"I'm being serious," Lalna said, pouting.

"Lalna, I have to go bodyguard _Strife_ in two hours," said Rythian. He tore the scab off and was rewarded with a slow trickle of blood. Cursing under his breath, he turned away from the mirror and snagged a couple sheets of toilet paper to stem the bleeding.

"Oh, that's plenty of time," said Lalna. "No one'll miss you for a _while."_

"Yes, it's just that—"

Their hand clapped over his mouth and something jabbed him in the neck. Rythian jerked in alarm, kicking out, but Lalna's grip was iron and whatever they'd injected him with was ice in his veins. His vision started to blur. He couldn't breathe. His muscles were turning to water. He clawed at Lalna, panicking. Their false skin was hot.

"Shh, shh," they murmured to him, while he screamed into their hand, while his struggles weakened. "Don't fight, Rythian. Don't fight it. You'll only make it harder for yourself."

He whimpered, his eyes trying to roll back in his head, his legs still kicking futilely. There was gunk under his fingernails, the smell of blood. The world was fading to impressionist blotches of color and light, pain giving way to numbness. He fumbled around for anything to grab onto, but his fingers were weak and slick.

"That's good, that's better," Lalna said, the warmth of their chest seeping into his back. "Nice and quiet, Rythian. Nice and easy."

He succumbed to the slow chill filling his veins, and the last thing he felt was a brush of lips against his ear.


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution: this one gets a little NSFW, so you might not want to read it at work/school.

Strife spent the whole day before the PRA banquet with a premonition in his head. Things had been going too well. It had been months since anyone had tried to blackmail, assassinate, or bankrupt him. He was overdue for trouble, and his trouble liked to find him in the most _dramatic_ ways possible. Standing up in front of a room full of mutants making a speech with nothing but Fox and and the human equivalent of a Tesla coil to protect him seemed appropriately theatrical.

It was getting on towards four o'clock, when Fox and Rythian were supposed to meet up with him for a short debriefing before heading to the venue to case the joint before Strife actually arrived. He'd spent the past hour making sure that the single-shot pistol concealed in the head of his cane was well-oiled and functional. He'd put in a fair amount of practice with it over the past six months, but it did have an unfortunate habit of jamming at random. He would have preferred to take the Beretta from its hidden slot under his desk, but if they frisked him at the door it'd be a hell of a bad first impression. Besides, it kicked like a mule, was louder than God, and simply didn't have the same _clas_ _s_ _._

Four o'clock came and went. Strife sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. None of his clocks were fast. This was very real lateness on the part of Fox and Rythian.

"It starts," he muttered to himself.

Five minutes later, there was a hurried knock at the door.

"In!" he barked.

The door was shoved open, and Fox came in, flushed and a little frazzled. Strife sat forward, scowling.

"Where's Sparks McGee?" he demanded.

"I don't know, sir," Fox said, sounding exasperated. "I've called him six times and he hasn't answered."

Something went _click_ in Strife's brain, and a whole host of gears started turning.

"You called anybody else?" he asked.

"What d'you mean, like, to come in instead?"

"No no, I mean, have you called any of his buddies trying to figure out where he is."

"Not . . . yet?" said Fox. Xyr eyes narrowed. "Why, sir?"

"Don't," said Strife, pointing at xem. "Find somebody else to cover for him, I don't care who. Anybody asks, he's a lazy bum who just didn't show up and you're _real_ pissed about it."

"He could be in trouble, sir," Fox said stiffly.

"Oh no, Fox, I _know_ he's in trouble," said Strife. "And if you know what's good for you—and I damn sure know what's good for _me—_ you don't go _borrowing_ trouble, and _especially_ not from that little mutant enclave. Find somebody to cover for him, keep your mouth shut, and hey, while we're at it, get hold of Toffee."

Fox was glaring at him, fists clenched at xyr sides. Xyr lip was starting to curl.

"Don't look at me like that, Fox, this is as humanitarian as I get," said Strife. "I want him in this building next to a fire alarm. If this really _is_ about me, then there's a certain sequence of events somebody's expecting. Event One is they take out my bodyguard. Event Two is I stay home from my little banquet 'cause now I'm super paranoid and down one bodyguard. Event Three is they blow me and everybody in the building to smithereens. So you get Toffee in here, and you post him up next to a fire alarm nice and cozy so he won't hit his pretty little head, and if somebody tries to blow up my damn building, at least we got an hour's notice to get everybody and their data out first. You and me are still going to that banquet, though, so find me another bodyguard."

"And what if it's _not_ about you, sir?" xe asked, teeth clenched.

"Then it's not my _fucking_ problem, Fox!" Strife said, jubilant. "Now by my watch, you got about fifteen minutes to find somebody to take Sparky's place and get down to that sad little excuse for a banquet hall. So maybe you oughtta get moving on that, hey?"

Fox ground xyr teeth so hard Strife could _hear_ it.

"Yes, _sir,"_ xe growled, and turned on xyr heel and stalked out. The moment the door closed behind xem, Strife picked up the phone. It nearly rang out before somebody answered.

_"Trisha Bailey, Strife Solutions American Branch, how may I help you?"_

"Trish, it's me," he said. "You know all those offshore holdings I didn't have?"

There was a pause.

_"Yes, sir, I'm aware of them."_

"You remember how I told you to get 'em all legal?"

_"Yes, sir. The last transfers should be finalized by the end of the month."_

"Finish it now," said Strife. "And then get some people to wipe up the trail. And I mean real _thoroughly_ wipe up that trail, hey?"

_"Sir, transferring the rest of the capital at once might draw suspicion."_

"Find a way to make it work. Somebody's already suspicious. I want the paper trail gone. I want the cyber-trail _gone._ Everything _gone._ I want it done by morning. _Here_ morning, not _there_ morning."

Trish heaved a long, resigned sigh.

_"Yes, sir,"_ she said. _"I'll get right on that."_

"Hey, Trish," said Strife. "Overtime pay. And take a paid vacation when you're done. Just get it _done."_

_"Yes, sir,"_ Trish said, more solidly. _"Right away, sir."_

"Thanks," Strife said, and hung up.

* * *

 

The next hour was filled with similar phone calls—tidying up old drug convictions, quietly erasing that one sexual harassment lawsuit—all conducted with a planned efficiency. Most of it had already been taken care of, because he'd figured that the only way to keep Nano's hacker-bot from wrecking everything was to take away all their ammunition. If Strife was all aboveboard, there was nothing they could do to him that he couldn't recover from. He'd even instituted a company-wide policy that all data was to be regularly backed up on an isolated hard drive that was never, and he meant _never,_ to be connected to any sort of wifi, internet, or cloud. The only plug in it was the one feeding it power. Likewise, everyone was encouraged to save copies of their data on their personal computers, flash drives, and external hard drives, plus whatever automatic cloud-based backups they felt like using.

The last thing he did was check on those fake death certificates he'd handed over to the FBI. The supervising physician's name was listed as _Steven_ _J._ _Ridge,_ _MD_ _._ The signature at the bottom was Kirin's, because contrary to what he'd told Nano, Strife had turned the things over nearly a week before the slaughter of the old Board. His own name appeared nowhere on the documents, although he'd forged them all personally. Some things were too important to delegate.

He could see no obvious flaws in them, and even so, there was very little tying them back to him. Even if someone figured out the certificates were fake, Strife was merely the messenger, and anybody who could have testified otherwise was dead.

Preparation was, after all, nine-tenths of every miracle.

All too soon, Fox was back in his office, toting the redhead from roof duty behind xem. Fox gave a brief report on the state of the venue and the security that came with it, and then xe and the redhead escorted Strife down to the bulletproof car waiting outside. Strife's knee was acting up, despite the fact that for once it wasn't raining, and he was therefore unable to wield the cane with as much swagger as he would have liked.

The venue also didn't suit him, too drab and too poorly secured, but at least it wasn't some high school gym fitted with plastic tables and folding chairs. It was well-lit, and crowded, and Strife had to take a moment when he first walked in to adjust his brain.

He had, quite literally, never seen so many Powered people in one place.

It was stunning, and terrifying. The sheer variety of shapes and colors and appendages was dizzying. There were claws and teeth, wings and tails, scars and deformities. There were a lot of assistive devices. The ones that worried him most, though, more even than the obvious bimorphs and otherwise visibly Powered, were the ones who looked _completely normal._ It made his skin crawl. He wondered how many of them he'd passed in the street, totally unknowing. He wondered how many walked in and out of his building every day, how many catered the food for his events, how many came through to clean his office and his bedroom. . . .

Honestly, it was a wonder he'd lived this long. It spoke a great deal to the integrity and overall fair-mindedness of the Powered community. It was no wonder they couldn't get ahead.

He shook himself, and put on his pleasant-and-unruffled mask, and waded out into the crowd to shake hands and smile, make small talk, let his eyes glaze over the obvious mutations. He'd been practicing that last one extensively with the Mutant Crew, especially Lomadia and Nano and Rythian. The trick was to find one normal thing on them, like their eyebrow, and focus on that. It even made it look like he was making eye-contact most of the time.

There was a great deal of networking to be done, elbows to be rubbed and palms to be greased. Strife was good at it. It was as comfortable as the vest and silk tie, the red and black. He'd been doing it for decades and (God willing) he'd be doing it for a few decades more.

Every so often, he checked on Fox and the redhead, making sure they were still paying attention, making sure they had their eyes on the crowd. They always did. He would've liked to have Rythian there, just to have a Real Life Powered Employee to show off, but the handshaking might have gotten a little complicated. Besides, Rythian was about as much a socialite as Strife was a mutant.

The dinner was good, if a little on the cheap side. It was a four-course meal, starting with fried mushrooms, sliced fresh fruit, antipasto salad, beef skewers, and a selection of cheeses. Then there was a Spanish tomato-potato soup, which had a little too much onion in it and not enough white wine, and then some sort of garden salad that was so utterly _boring_ Strife didn't bother even picking at it. For the main course, he decided on the salmon, foregoing two different chicken dishes and a beef or pork tenderloin. At the very least, the wine selection was palatable and well-chosen. He wondered who they'd paid to do it, and if they'd used his money.

Dotted throughout the courses, there were speeches made, some awards given out. Strife paid an awful lot of attention to those—what the crowd thought was funny, what they found touching, what made them mutter and what they nodded along with. He noted the body language of the presenters, their cadence, their vocabulary. He picked out where the photographers were stationed around the room and calculated his optimum angles. He kept one hand on his cane throughout. If he couldn't have Rythian, at least he could have that.

Finally, it was Strife's turn to make his way up to the stage, introduced by one of the PRA Board of Directors. He moved at a measured pace, not hurrying but not lolly-gagging either. He leaned a little heavier on the cane than he strictly needed to. It thumped on the stage as he moved to the podium. He positioned himself optimally between the microphones and surveyed the audience. He smiled.

"Hey, folks," he said, laying the charm on thick. He lifted the cane up with one finger under the handle, making a spectacle of it. Not a weapon. Not a thing you hurt people with. An assistive device, just like yours. "Sorry about this. Only bothers me when it rains."

Quiet titters. Good, at least _some_ of them were amused.

"Well now, I had a whole little speech prepared, talking about how honored I am to be invited here and how the organizers have put together a fantastic banquet, but I think instead I'll just skip straight to the stuff everybody wants to hear about," he said. _"Money."_

Sniggers rippling through the room. A few hands raised to mouths, covering smiles. Meaningful looks exchanged. That was more like it.

"Over the past six months, Strife Solutions has taken the initiative in affirmative action for Powered employees," he said. "We're determined to set an example to the rest of the world, that it's not just beneficial to hire diversely, but it's a _duty._ It's _literally_ the least we can do. Right now, the employee makeup of Strife Solutions, across all subsidiaries and branches, is about one percent Powered. We're committed to at least doubling that by the end of the year. Gotta make up for everybody else's slack 'til they get on board, hey? But, like I said, that's the _least_ we can do."

He had their attention now. Talking jobs usually did that. People liked to hear about where their kids, friends, cousins, _parents_ could go to get out of the gutter.

"Now, me havin' a lot to make up for in the field of philanthropy—" he began, and was interrupted by a loud snort. He nodded to the source, some face out in the glittering crowd. "Yeah, I know. Long way to go. _Anyway._ I figured the organization doing the most to fight for the rights of Powered people across the globe would be the place to start. Last donation season, Strife Solutions gave one million dollars in non-discretionary funds to the Powered Rights Association. And, lemme tell you, it's probably been one of the best investments I've ever made. And that's sayin' something, hey?"

Eyes rolled. People shaking their heads, although they were smiling. He shrugged.

"Hey, well, I tell you what, it turned out so good, I decided it'd be nice to do it again. Only this year, it's _five_ million."

Now _that_ got a reaction. Strife leaned back on his heels and waited for the excited hubbub to die down.

"So," he said, _"that's_ happening. Just a little paperwork to sign, and we're all set. Look for that sometime around July. So I'll quit talkin' everybody's ears off now, and uh, I'll be happy to take a few questions."

At least a dozen hands raised. Strife picked the one with the most jewelry.

"Yeah, in the blue dress," he said.

"Mr. Strife, my name is Wanda Tschauner. I was on the Board of Directors here at the PRA last year. I thought I'd go ahead and ask the question I'm certain is on everyone's mind: what prompted this change of heart?"

"Ah, yep, sure," said Strife. He laid his hands palm-down on the podium and took a slow breath. "Well, I guess the short answer is uh, is _selfishness."_

Confused muttering, more looks exchanged.

"Yeah yeah, I know, hard to believe," he drawled.

Scoffing and sniggering. Good. Keep them entertained.

"But uh . . . well, I had occasion to work with a telepath," he said. The room hushed. "Real stand-up guy. Young. Witty. Total genius. Real big heart. Maybe uh, maybe a little too big. Y'know."

The hush was complete now. All eyes were on him. He cleared his throat.

"He uh . . . he didn't make it," Strife said. "Saved about uh . . . six of his buddies from getting dragged off by the nice fellas in YogLabs coats. But he didn't make it. And it . . . well, it shook me deeper than I thought it would. And I guess at some point you figure there's more important things than dying rich. Like . . . living as a decent human being. So that's what happened. Somebody I liked and respected got killed, and selfish me got real upset about it. When rich guys throw tantrums, oh boy, it's uh, it's a real spectacle, hey?"

Some nods, some muttering. The faces in the audience were not as sympathetic as he'd hoped, despite the blunt honesty of his tale.

"Okay, so, uh, next question?"

This time he picked a hand near the back. A fat, brown-skinned woman stood, holding a pen in one hand and a notepad in another. Strife winced internally.

"Angela Trottimus, _Bristol Watt_ _,"_ she said, staring unwaveringly at him. "Mr. Strife, could you take a moment to explain to us why it is that the so-called _reform_ of YogLabs has been in progress for over six months, and yet not a _single_ prisoner has been released from containment? _Despite_ the promises of the Administrative Board that all cases would be reviewed for unjust imprisonment and compensation provided? Could you take a moment to explain why it is that our people are still locked in your dungeons, being _tortured_ and _experimented on—"_

A hubbub was rising, the sea of faces growing at first uncomfortable and now trending towards _hostile._ Fox—God bless Fox—wove xyr way through the crowded tables and put a hand on Angela's shoulder. The rant cut off abruptly as she threw off Fox's hand, and Fox bent xyr knees, readied for a fight.

He really wished Rythian had been there. Nothing like blinding arcs of deadly electricity to quiet down a room.

"Okay, okay! Jeez, lemme get a word in edgewise," Strife said, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture. "All good questions. All _great_ questions. Now I can't comment too directly on the prisoner release program. That's being spearheaded by my colleague, Dr. Nano Sounds, and I don't wanna talk over her, hey? But, I _can_ tell you that part of the reason it's taking so long is that we're trying to get accommodations set up for all those folks. We don't wanna just chuck 'em out on the street with nowhere to go and nothing to do, hey?"

All true, in fact, because there was no _telling_ how many telepaths were in the room, but based on straight percentages it was at least one. . . .

"I can also tell you that the inmates are being taken good care of," he went on. "All, uh, all involuntary testing has been completely shut down, so uh, don't worry on that count."

"So you _admit_ the prisoners were being used for medical experimentation?" Angela demanded.

"That's . . . not my department, and uh, y'know—"

Stop. No excuses. _Someone_ would know if he lied. Better to take flack for being an asshole in the past than a liar in the present.

"I shoulda put a stop to it sooner," he said, with a shrug. "I knew tests were being conducted on the prisoners, and, y'know, I didn't put too much effort into figuring out what _kind_ of tests, which is uh, which is my bad. Ignorance—ignorance isn't an excuse, but uh, it's a reason, hey? So now that I know how ugly it all was, I'm doing everything I can to make sure the compensation we provide is fair. In the mean time, we're doin' our best to take care of the folks down—"

_People,_ something hissed in his head.

Strife went rigid, his throat clenching shut, his stomach dropping into his patent leather shoes.

_Call them_ _people,_ it instructed, cold and sneering. _Not_ _'_ _folks,_ _'_ _not_ _'_ _inmates,_ _'_ _not_ _'_ _prisoners_ _._ _'_ _People,_ _Mr. Strife._

"Those—those _people,_ down there," Strife wheezed. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. His hand was shaking. God, what he wouldn't give to have Rythian up here. . . .

_Better._

"So uh, so does that answer your question?" he said. "I'd—I'd direct you to Dr. Sounds, for more info, on that. Or our head of Security, uh, Ms. Chrissa Hayes."

Angela glared at him for a moment more, then subsided back into her seat. Fox evanesced back into the crowd.

Strife took a few more questions, then gave a smiling farewell and got the hell off the stage. His hand was clenched so hard on his cane that it had numbed his fingers. He managed to sit through the rest of the banquet with his mask of ease still in place, but when it came time for Fox and the redhead to escort him back to the car, he didn't dally to speak to anyone.

It was only when the bulletproof doors had closed him in that he finally felt _safe._

* * *

 

When Strife got back to Solutions Tower, it was, to his immense relief, still in one piece and _not_ on fire. He checked in with security, and they reported no suspicious activity. He checked in with Trellimar, who reported no seizures. Strife told him to stay in the building. Despite the constipated look on his face, he didn't object. Strife sent Fox home and then took the elevator up to his penthouse suite. The guards nodded to him on his way by. There was something comforting about the big black Sig Sauers in their shoulder holsters.

It took him longer than usual to get down the corridor to his bedroom. His knee was really acting up, and his hand was sore from clenching the cane all evening. It was with no small amount of relief that he pushed open the door to his room and limped inside.

Someone was languishing in his bed, all pale flesh and slender limbs. He was smoking one of Strife's cigars. There was a bottle of whiskey on the nightstand withtwo glasses, and next to them, a small gold casesitting atop two hundred-pound notes. There was also a bottle of lube and a box of condoms.

There was no question that the visitor was happy to see Strife, on account of the total lack of pockets and, in fact, clothing.

Strife shut the door behind him very quickly indeed.

"You're uh, you're not supposed to smoke in bed, hey?" he said, totally failing to keep the squeak out of his voice.

"Oh no," Nilesy drawled, flicking ashes onto the silk duvet. "What if a fire starts, what ever shall I do."

"Anybody see you come in?" Strife asked, loosening his tie. Nilesy took a truly _indecent_ pull off the cigar and breathed out a cloud of blue smoke.

"Everybody," he assured Strife, grinning.

"Oh, _everybody,_ huh?" The tie was off, and he removed his vest, toed out of his shoes. It was warm in the room. "You walk in looking like that, or what?"

"No no, darling, this is only for you," he said, laughing to himself. "The real question is how many of your little flunkies you'll have to bribe in the morning."

"Maybe I'll just give 'em a shot at you," said Strife, crossing to the nightstand. His cane thumped quietly on the floor. "Make you pay your own way instead of bankrupting me every couple weeks."

"Would this be a metaphorical shot, or a literal one?" Nilesy asked, regarding the ceiling with hazy eyes. He took another long pull at the cigar. Strife's trousers were starting to get uncomfortably tight.

"Maybe both," said Strife. He poured himself a drink and tossed it back. It went down wonderfully smooth. "Depending on what they're into. I don't tell 'em how to do their business."

"I'd think that's exactly what you do, being the Big Boss Man and all." He grinned, a slow and languorous expression, and turned his eyes to Strife. "Maybe you ought to supervise."

"Maybe you oughtta stop smoking the Big Boss Man's cuban cigars," Strife said. He tugged up his trouser leg and unstrapped his knee brace, then cast it aside. He stood again and gave Nilesy a stern look. "Those aren't cheap, y'know."

Holding unwavering eye contact, Nilesy took a third decadent drag off the cigar. The smoke nearly brushed Strife's face as he exhaled.

"Make me," he said.

Strife took both of his wrists and pulled the cigar to his own mouth, filled his lungs with hot blue smoke. He leaned over and breathed it all out between Nilesy's parted lips.

"That's all you get," he murmured.

_"All?"_ Nilesy inquired, amused. "Whatever happened to letting everybody in the building fuck me senseless? I was so looking forward to it."

"That's for when I'm done with you," said Strife. He climbed up onto the bed, onto Nilesy, though it made his knee twinge something awful. He took another drag off the cigar, twisting Nilesy's wrist at a painful angle to do it. Hot ash fell onto Nilesy's chest and he twitched. He was still grinning, wider than ever, his eyes alight with mirth, with lust.

"Oh, so in ten minutes?" he asked. "Call it a night, old man."

"You keep that up," Strife said, grinding against him, "I'm gonna find some new uses for that cane."

Nilesy laughed, rolling his hips against Strife's, matching his rhythm exquisitely.

"Funny you should talk about _keeping it up,"_ he said.

"That's it, you're getting a goddamn hiding," Strife declared. The smile was infectious. His blood was aflame.

"Oh dear, oh dear, Mr. Strife," said Nilesy, holding his gaze unremittingly. "What ever shall I do to escape this horrendous punishment? Shall I choke on your massive, throbbing cock? Shall I ride you like a fucking stallion? Shall I let you stay and watch while hordes of shambling wage-slaves come to fuck me as the reward for their silence, one after another after another, 'til I'm wrecked and ruined and you can use whatever's left of me for your own sordid delights?"

"No getting out of it," Strife said, breathless, _aching._ "Though hell, you can sure try, if you wanna."

"Maybe I will," he said. "Maybe I'll kill you in the morning. Or maybe I _want_ you to beat me bloody and fuck me raw."

Strife leaned in and kissed him, slow and messy, tasting the lingering flavor of smoke on his tongue. The whiskey was making his skin tingle, the friction kindling a fire in his belly.

"Do the voice," Strife murmured. "Rest of the night. You do that and you can have anything you want."

"What voice, Will?" Nilesy purred, and he'd be goddamned if it didn't sound _just_ _like_ Elly, and he'd be twice goddamned if it didn't make him hotter than hell. He kissed Nilesy again, hungry, greedy, dizzy. Nilesy did some things with his tongue that were positively obscene.

"Jesus, you're a kinky sonnuva bitch," Strifesaid, cracking a smile.

"And we haven't even gotten to the drugs yet," Nilesy said smugly, in that _voice,_ and Strife just about came right then and there. He took another long, messy, filthy kiss.

_"Yet,"_ said Strife.


	14. Chapter 13

Panda had fallen asleep on the couch the night before, and although he was sore and cramped, he still wasn't leaving it now that it was morning. Rythian hadn't come home after his bodyguarding gig for Strife—or if he had, he'd snuck in while Panda had dozed, which seemed unlikely. Panda's stomach was knotted up with worry, but he kept telling himself it was for nothing.

After all, Nilesy had gone out last night, too, and he hadn't come home either. Odds were, they'd met up and gotten a hotel room and all Panda's chances with either of them had gone completely out the window. That seemed much more likely, anyway, just because it was the worst-case scenario.

Well, probably the worst. _Realistically_ the worst. Probably.

He'd been grazing on junk food and watching soap operas all morning, napping intermittently. Lalna was up and about, but hadn't come out of their room yet, presumably working on some little project of theirs. At least _they_ were home, and Panda didn't have to worry that he'd fallen into the Twilight Zone and was the only living person left on Earth.

On autopilot, he'd nearly texted Zylus about it. He'd had the whole message written out and everything.

_I've gone and got myself fucked up over_ _TWO boys_ _and NOW what the fuck am I supposed to do? Neither of them have come home and I'm about to lose my mind._

Panda had sat there with the cursor blinking for almost a minute before deleting the whole thing.

Nilesy came into the flat around eleven o'clock, moving stiffly, as though all his joints had pins in them. He shut and locked the door behind him, keeping his eyes down. There weren't any obvious hickeys on his neck, which under the circumstances was a bit of a surprise.

"Where's Rythian?" Panda asked.

Nilesy frowned. "How should I know?" he said.

Panda's heart skipped a beat. "He—I mean, you were with him," he said. "Weren't you?"

"No," said Nilesy, regarding Panda suspiciously. "Why, did he tell you—"

"He didn't come home last night," Panda interrupted.

"Well—he had that bodyguard thing, didn't he?" said Nilesy. There was fear creeping into his voice now, the same fear that was tangling around Panda's guts.

"But he should've got back at _some_ point!"

"Have you called him?"

"Yeah, like four times. His phone's in his room, I could hear it ringing. I just figured he forgot—"

Nilesy strode to Rythian's door and knocked sharply.

_"Rythian?"_ he called. There was no answer. Nilesy looked over his shoulder at Panda. "Get Lalna."

"I—okay," said Panda. He darted to Lalna's door and knocked until they answered.

"Yeah?" they said, regarding him with a detached curiosity.

"Rythian didn't come home last night and he wasn't with Nilesy and his phone's in his room but I don't think he is," Panda said, speaking too quickly.

Lalna's eyes flickered once.

"I see," they said. "Excuse me."

They moved past Panda and strode into the main room. Nilesy was kneeling next to Rythian's door, his hand near the knob, his fingers twitching.

"He's not in there," he said, as Lalna approached. "There's nobody in there. I'm trying to get the door—"

"Move, please," said Lalna. They didn't so much as slow down, and Nilesy was forced to scramble out of the way as they walked up to the door and kicked it open. Panda darted in on Lalna's heels, making a quick canvass of the room. Nothing was amiss, except—

"Oh, _fuck!"_ he cried, his voice resonating off the tiled bathroom walls. "In here!"

Lalna and Nilesy hurried in. Nilesy cursed, and Lalna froze in place.

There was blood on the counter. The toilet seat was dislodged, like it had been kicked. There were scuff marks on the floor, clear signs of a struggle. Rythian's mask was lying next to the sink.

"Shit. _Shit!_ What the fuck do we do? What the fuck _happened?"_ Panda cried, vibrating where he stood.

"I don't—I don't know, Panda," Nilesy said, choked up, breathless. "We'll—the police'll look it over, maybe they can get something off the—the blood, I don't—God, I should've been here, I should— _fuck,_ no, fuck off, fuck off—"

One of his knees buckled, and Panda rushed to catch him. His eyes were unfocused, his skin fever-hot. His breathing was uneven, frantic.

"Nilesy, Niles, hey, it's okay, it's all right, we'll—we'll find him, he'll be okay—"

Nilesy shoved him in the chest, _hard._ He knelt, one hand pressed to his forehead, nearly sobbing.

"I'm—I'm okay," he gasped. "I'm me. I'm okay. I'm me. I'm okay. I'm _me._ I'm _okay."_

"We shouldn't touch anything in here," Lalna said, reanimating suddenly. Without any further preamble, they hoisted Nilesy up by the arm and started to drag him from the room.

Nilesy absolutely _lost it._

He screamed bloody murder. Water exploded from everywhere. He thrashed violently in Lalna's grasp. His elbow slammed into the mirror and shattered it. The water crashed over Lalna and tore them off of him. They staggered. Their eyes went red.

"Niles, stop it!" Panda cried, grabbing his shoulders. Something picked him up and slammed him into the wall. He saw stars. He couldn't breathe, crushed, his eyes pressing back into his skull and his heart laboring to beat and his ribs flattening his lungs—

Lalna fought through the rushing water. The force of it was ripping their clothes. Nilesy was screaming. He was trying to scramble back through the mirror. Blood was running down the glass. His Power was wicking it up and hurling it at Lalna.

Lalna reached out a hand and put it over Nilesy's eyes.

Panda dropped heavily. He gasped in a breath, one hand pressed to his chest and the deep pain in his heart. Water was still gushing from the ruptured sink and toilet and shower head, but it just pooled on the floor, directionless. Slowly, the ringing in his ears faded, and he managed to pull himself to his feet.

"I'm sorry," Nilesy was whispering, clutching Lalna's hand with both of his. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . ."

"Jesus Christ," Panda gasped. "What the fuck?"

Nilesy's voice choked off in a whimper. He was shivering. The color of his skin was running, off his neck, his arms, revealing hickeys and bruises and what looked like burns. A ball of lead dropped into Panda's stomach. He had to look away.

"You're all cut up," Lalna said. "This water's not sanitary. We've got to clean the wounds."

Nilesy said nothing. Carefully, Lalna lifted him from his perch on the sink and carried him out while Nilesy buried his face in their chest. Panda took a moment to collect himself. The blood was washing off the mirror. What had been smeared on the counter earlier had been blasted off by a jet of streaming water. Sicker every second, Panda trailed out after Lalna.

They were in the process of laying Nilesy down on the coffee table, face-down. His shirt was a mess of bloody splotches, and there was glass poking through the fabric in places. He was crying. There was blood on Lalna's hands and shirt.

"I'm going to take this off of you," they told Nilesy, pinching the hem of his shirt between their forefingers and thumbs. The moment they began to pull it up, Nilesy grabbed hold of it quick as lightning.

_"No,"_ he gasped. "No—no, no—"

He struggled to get upright, and Lalna let him, sitting back.

"It's got to come off," they said. "I think you probably need stitches, too. I can call an ambulance."

_"No,"_ Nilesy repeated, shaking his head.

"I'll—I'll call Lom," Panda said. "She can—yeah."

Nilesy only sniffled and shivered, so Panda hurried to his room and called her. The conversation was brief, muddled, but the upshot was that both she and Nano were on the way. When Panda got back to the main room, not much had changed.

"You could take it off on your own, would that help?" Lalna asked. Tears were sliding down Nilesy's cheeks, dripping onto the table. The blood had soaked through the back of his shirt and was starting to redden his jeans. He didn't answer Lalna. His face had gone blank and white.

"Lom and Nano are on the way," Panda mentioned. He picked his way over, carefully, and sat down on the coffee table in front of Nilesy. Gingerly, he took his hands. "Hey, Niles. I know you're scared, and I know it's hard, but we've got to fix you up before we can do anything else. Okay?"

"That's not completely true," Lalna said. "I'm on hold with the police, filing a missing person report for Rythian. They'll probably show up to look round the area, but I'm not going to tell them he was taken from inside. I don't _think_ they'll look in here. I _have_ told them it was probably a kidnapping."

"How the fuck are you so _calm_ about this?" Panda snapped.

Lalna shrugged. "I've got to be," they said. "Maybe we could cut the shirt off him. D'you think that'd bother him, or not?"

"I don't—I don't fucking _know,_ Lal, I don't know anything!" Panda cried, despairing.

"I'll try just taking it off one more time," they said. "Nilesy, I'm going to take off your shirt now, okay?"

Nilesy didn't respond. Lalna took the hem of his blood-soaked shirt in their fingers again, and lifted it up. Nilesy flinched and shivered, but didn't try to stop them. They peeled the shirt off him, smearing blood on his cheeks and arms. They held it out to Panda.

"Could you go put that in a bin bag?" they said. "Otherwise it'll drip everywhere. There's loads of holes in it, I don't think there's any point keeping it."

The words didn't even register, at first. Panda was stuck, staring at Nilesy's chest. It was a mess of bruises, of hickeys, of burns, overwriting the old handprint scar over his heart. There were places where ash was still clinging to his skin, embedded in pus. His biceps were marked with the imprint of ropes, tight enough to freckle his skin with red. Panda had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up.

"Okay," said Lalna. They got up and went to the kitchen, taking Nilesy's blood-soaked shirt with them.

With shaking fingers, Panda took Nilesy's hands again. His vision was blurred with tears. Nilesy didn't react. There were tears on his face, too.

"Jesus, Niles," Panda whispered, his heart aching.

Nilesy didn't respond, glass-eyed and still. His hands were cold. He was barely breathing.

"Why d'you _do_ this to yourself?" Panda asked. He knew he wouldn't get a response, but he had to say it anyway. "Why're you _still_ doing this?"

There wasn't even a flinch, not a shiver. It was like all three of him had gone out the stage door of his mind, leaving this empty theater with all its painted scenery and none of the players. Panda squeezed his hands.

"I'm sorry, Niles," he murmured. "Whatever made you do it, I'm sorry."

Lalna came back, carrying the big red first-aid kit, and knelt down behind Nilesy.

"There's not much glass actually stuck in there," they mentioned, opening up the kit and taking out various disinfectants and bandages. "That's probably good, it means I haven't got to pull hardly anything out. It's still going to hurt a lot, though. I don't think we've got any painkillers that're strong enough to help."

"I don't—I don't think we'd better be giving him drugs, anyway," Panda said, choked up. "Um. Just because if it—if it was Strife, um. . . ."

Lalna tipped their head to the side. Their eyes flickered red, just for an instant.

"Oh," they said, "right. He's probably had worse, he should be okay."

And with that, they bent to their work, picking shards of mirror out of the mess of Nilesy's back, mopping up the blood and liberally applying disinfectant. Nilesy's face barely twitched, though it must have been painful.

A few minutes later, there was a loud and urgent knock at the door.

"It's open!" Lalna called.

Nano and Lomadia hurried in. Lomadia took one look at Nilesy and let out a distressed cry, hurrying to his side. Nano's jaw clenched, and she swallowed, blinking rapidly. She came over and settled on the couch, clasping her hands.

"Okay," she said. "What's—what's the situation, what needs doing?"

"Rythian's probably been kidnapped," Lalna reported, taping down the last bit of gauze on Nilesy's back. "He was taken from in his room, probably before Strife's function last night. There was a struggle, and blood. Nilesy had a flashback and hurt himself. I've filed a missing person report with the police. Nilesy probably needs at least a few stitches, and then Rythian needs to be found. Of course. I've also got a plumber on the way so the flat won't flood. Somebody should probably clean up all the blood before they get here, otherwise there might be some issues. There'll probably be issues anyway, though, because there's usually issues."

"You're _awfully_ calm about all this," Nano said, regarding them closely. Her voice was shaking.

"I've got to be," Lalna said again. They were cleaning Nilesy's blood off their hands with an alcohol wipe.

"Why?" said Nano.

Lalna hesitated. They glanced at Panda, then at Lomadia, then Nilesy. They bowed their head and started ticking their thumbs together.

"When my other self built this body," they said, "it wasn't intended to be a permanent platform. They were only going to use it occasionally, and spend most of their time in their original body. But then something happened, and they made me, instead. They kept me, instead of deleting me as soon as they were done running calibrations. I wasn't supposed to stay in here, or at least not for very long. They only designed my power core to last five years. I thought I would have plenty of time to find a solution before my power ran out."

Their face pulled into a frown, and their hands stilled.

"But then somebody hacked me, and set my power core to run at eighty times its maximum output. They were trying to kill me quickly, I think, by blowing me up. It didn't work—"

"But it drained your battery," Panda breathed. "Oh, fuck. How much time have you got?"

"At current usage, I have sixteen days, four hours, and twenty-nine seconds," Lalna said.

Nano cursed loudly and leapt up from her seat, stalking away with her hands clenched in her hair. Panda's insides all filled up with tar, and he had to swallow down a wave of nauseous dread. Lomadia put her fingers over her mouth. Nilesy didn't react, like he hadn't heard.

"An emotional outburst lasting one minute can decrease this time by up to one hour," Lalna went on. "Even moderate-level emotional stress has a large effect. Twenty-eight hours of sustained concern would kill me. I'm calm because I've got to be. I've _got_ to be. I've shut down most of my interpersonal software and extensively truncated my emotional database. I literally can't afford to worry."

"Why didn't you _say_ anything?" Nano demanded, rounding on them. "Why haven't you said _anything,_ in over a year? In—in the past four _days,_ even, God's _sake,_ Lalna—"

"There's nothing you can do," they said, watching her placidly. "I haven't got the schematics for my power core. My other self didn't include them. I've looked for Xephos's notes, but they're gone. I think whoever did this to me probably removed all digital copies of the notes in case I survived the initial attack. I've been trying to work something out from what I've got, but I haven't come up with anything."

"We could've _helped,_ Lalna!" Nano said. She was crying.

"No, you really couldn't," they said. "I think faster than any of you. I've got more technical expertise with these systems than anybody. If I can't figure it out, nobody can. It's why I haven't told you. I assumed you'd get upset like this."

"What happens when you run out?" Lomadia asked, tremulous. "What happens when you're all out of time?"

Lalna shrugged. "I shut down," they said. "Until somebody makes a new power core that works and I can wake back up. I've estimated it'll take about seventy years at the current rate of technological advancement and sociopolitical turmoil, if there're no surviving copies of Xephos's notes. I've decided I won't want to wake up, because all of you will be dead. I'd like you to disassemble me—"

"Shut up!" Nano snarled. "Shut the _fuck_ up, Lalna! Nobody's taking you apart, you're _not_ dying, we are _not_ doing this!"

"We shouldn't be," said Lalna. "It's a closed matter. There's nothing any of you can do. We should be focusing on finding Rythian."

"You can't just change the _subject_ like that!"

"Nano, I—I think they're right," Panda said timidly.

"Don't you _dare,"_ she uttered, rounding on him. "Don't you _dare_ side with their stupid, fatalistic—"

"You can _help_ Rythian," Lalna said matter-of-factly. "You can't help me."

"Lalna—" Nano began, pleading.

"I'm still working on a solution," they said, cutting her off. "I have approximately sixteen days to find one. Even if it's down to the wire, I can leave you instructions on how to implement it. _You_ can't help me, Nano. But I haven't given up."

Nano glared at them for a long moment, then dropped to the floor, her head in her hands. Lomadia went to her side and put a hand on her back.

"Lal's really smart, Nano," she said softly. "They'll figure it out. We can find Rythian and we'll bring him home and then they won't have to worry anymore and they'll get more time." She looked up at Lalna. "Right? That's how it works, right?"

"Sure," Lalna said, shrugging.

"See?" said Lomadia, turning back to Nano. "It'll be okay. We'll be okay. There's time. We've just got to fix one thing at a time, that's all."

"It's not _fair,"_ Nano moaned, leaning against Lomadia with her head still in her hands. "It's not _right_ _."_

"No," said Lomadia, rubbing the spot between her shoulders. "It's not. But it'll be okay anyway."

"Um," Panda said, turning hesitantly to Lalna. "What—so what do we do about finding Rythian?"

Lalna tipped their head to the side, considering the ceiling.

"He was taken from inside the flat," they said. "Inside his own room. Whoever took him didn't force entry to either the front door or his door. He must have let them in, which means he probably knew them."

"Well—who does Rythian know, then, apart from us?" Panda asked. "I mean there's Fox, but I can't think of a reason xe'd kidnap him."

"Zoey and Fiona," said Lalna. "But that also seems unlikely."

"He used to sell his Power to somebody round here," Lomadia said. "He paid all our rent once, at the old place."

"Thomas Angor," Lalna supplied.

"I guess. Maybe it was him. Or some other trader, or something. I've heard it happens sometimes, people stealing Powered people for money and stuff."

"There's Bebop," Nano said, sniffling, wiping her eyes. "Or somebody working for him. He's had a . . . a grudge against us ever since Lalna hit him. And he . . . apparently he was . . . there. Y'know, when Rythian was . . . there."

Panda's fists clenched. His jaw was tight and aching.

"Can we just go kick the shit out of him on principle?" he asked.

"I don't think Rythian would have let Bebop in," Lalna said.

"No, probably not," Nano said miserably.

"Maybe they only looked like somebody he knew," Lomadia said. "He hasn't got loads of friends and I don't think any of them would kidnap him."

"There's been at least one documented case of a true omnimorph in the northern hemisphere," Lalna said. "But they're very difficult to study. There aren't even any prevalence statistics."

"All right, but what are the odds he got kidnapped by a shapeshifter?" Nano asked. "And— _why?"_

Lalna shrugged. "There's no prevalence statistics," they said. "Nobody knows how many there are. It would be impossible to tell an omnimorph from a polymorph or even a normie if they didn't come out to you."

_"Fox's boyfriend,"_ Panda blurted, shooting to his feet. "Fox's _fucking_ boyfriend!"

"What?" said Nano.

"You said!" Panda cried. "You said he was working for Medical, right? Only he's on the books as working for Strife Solutions, and he's obviously Powered, and he's seen most of us and he's _definitely_ seen Fox and probably Rythian and—"

"I can't . . . understand . . . a _word_ . . . coming out . . . of your mouth," Nano said. "Slow . . . _down."_

Panda screamed through his teeth, hitting himself in the leg jackhammer-quick.

"He thinks Fox's boyfriend could be an omnimorph, and Rythian's kidnapper," Lalna explained, also talking too slowly, but at least not as slow as Nano.

"Yes! That! Thank you! Yes! Maybe that's why he gets the fucking seizures, who the fuck knows what all that changing does to your brains—"

"That's highly speculative," Lalna pointed out. "All of this is speculative."

"But it's what we've _got,"_ Panda said. "It fits better than anything else we've come up with, it's at _least_ worth looking into!"

"I think so, too," said Lalna. "But I also think we should continue to investigate other possibilities."

"We can split up," said Lomadia. "Somebody can go find Fox's boyfriend and somebody can go find the Thomas guy and somebody can talk to the police and the plumber, I guess. Somebody should stay with Nilesy, because I don't think he can go anywhere, really."

"It's likely best if you stay with him," Lalna said. "If there's a problem, you're really the only one who can get him out effectively."

"D'you think there's going to be problems?" Nano asked.

"Someone tried to kill me five days ago," Lalna said. "Now someone's kidnapped Rythian. As Nilesy would say: two points make a line. And we're probably all standing on it."

"Fuck," Nano hissed. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ I knew it. I fucking _knew_ this was going to happen!"

"I can—I mean, I can get Niles out, too, if I've got to," Panda said.

"Not as effectively," said Lalna. They shrugged. "But Lomadia hasn't got to stay with him. It's not the only option. Just the best one."

"Why don't _you_ stay with him?" Nano said. "Since you're—you're _dying._ And since you're the one who did all the calling."

"I'm fine," said Lalna. "Besides, if there's a problem, that uses lots of power. It's better if I stay out of fights. Combat operations are almost as bad as emotional outbursts. Calming down Nilesy earlier cost me fifteen minutes."

"Shit," Panda muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"How—what—no, never mind, later," said Nano. "Okay, fine. Lom, can you stay with Nilesy?"

"I guess," she said. "I dunno if he wants me to stay with him, though. I think he should get to pick."

"That—yeah," said Panda. "That. I mean, y'know, assuming he can, uh. . . ."

All eyes turned to Nilesy. Nilesy sat there, porcelain and glass and blood, utterly vacant.

"Nilesy?" Lomadia said softly. "D'you want me to stay with you?"

He didn't respond, didn't even blink.

"Is—have we still got his mask?" Nano asked softly. "Only . . . the last time I saw him like this, it—it took the mask to get him back."

"I can do a passable surrogate," said Lalna. Gently, they put their hands over Nilesy's face, covering his eyes and forehead. He twitched just a little, a lift of the chin and a straightening of the spine. The fingers of both hands splayed out, then relaxed.

"Nilesy?" Lomadia said, sidling towards him on her knees.

His throat worked as he swallowed several times. One of his hands picked at the seam of his jeans.

"Lom?" he said, tremulous.

"Yeah, it's me," she said. "I think you went away for a bit. D'you remember?"

Slowly, he shook his head. He was shivering.

"It's okay, nobody's hurt but you," she told him. Panda's bruised, aching body begged to differ, but he kept his mouth shut and let Lomadia keep talking. "We're going to split up to try and find Rythian. Somebody's going to stay with you, though. I can, but anybody else could, too. You can pick."

He sniffled. He reached up and touched Lalna's hands, as though unsure of what they were.

"You," he whispered. "I want—I want you, I—I—"

"Okay," said Lomadia. "I'm here. I'll stay."

He reached out towards her, helplessly, like a child. She took his hands and slid up close to him, touching his knee with hers. He fumbled his way out from under Lalna's hands and buried his face in her chest, clinging to her. She folded a wing around him, petting his hair.

"It's okay," she told him. "It's okay."

"Um," Nano said, pulling Panda's attention away from the spectacle. "I s'pose I could . . . go talk to the Power trader. I've met him before."

"Yeah, but . . . you're also the only one who's met Fox's boyfriend," Panda said, struggling to get back on track. "And I—I think whoever does that one shouldn't go alone. Y'know, just in case."

"Then it should be you and me," said Nano. "And Lal can deal with Tom. I s'pose that's the least likely place for a fight to break out?"

"Probably," said Lalna.

Nano took a deep breath and sighed it out. She glanced at Lomadia and Nilesy. She rubbed her face.

"Honestly I don't like any of us going _anywhere_ alone," she said. "D'you think you could call up Zoey and Fiona and have them go with you? I'm sure they'd help. Especially with this."

"I'll be all right," said Lalna. "I know what I'm doing."

"Lalna, it would make _me_ feel a lot better if you'd take at least one of them with you," Nano said.

"And it takes extra power for me to act like I'm not suppressing eighty percent of my personality," Lalna countered. "It doesn't matter how you feel about it. It's optimal if I go alone. I ran the numbers. I was _built_ to do this sort of thing."

Nano chewed her cheeks for a moment, stewing.

"Fine," she said. "All right. Fine. Panda, d'you have anything you need to grab? Knives or anything?"

"No," said Panda, uncomfortable. "No, I don't . . . I don't actually have any of those. Anymore."

"There's one in Rythian's room," Lalna mentioned. "He kept it after you threw it at him. If you want it."

"I don't," said Panda. He scratched his palm idly.

"Suit yourself," said Lalna, shrugging. "I just thought it could be helpful if there was a fight." They got to their feet. "I'll go talk to Tom and find out if he's seen Rythian. If you need me for anything, just call."

"Right," said Nano, heaving herself to her feet. "We should . . . probably be heading off, too. Sweetheart, will you be okay here?"

"I think we'll be all right," said Lomadia. "I can talk to the plumber and everything."

"Okay." Nano went and kissed her cheek, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I love you, wife."

"I love you, too, wife," she said. Nano smiled, and sniffled, and straightened up. She went steely, settling against her skeleton. "Okay. Let's go."

She headed for the door, and Panda followed. Lalna went, too, and they didn't part ways until they got to the base of the stairs. As Nano headed for the car park, Lalna turned to go the opposite direction. Panda laid a hand on their arm, awkward and nervous. They stopped, looking down at him expectantly.

"He'll . . . he'll be okay, Lal," Panda said softly. They regarded him, expressionless.

"You haven't got to reassure me," they said. "It honestly doesn't bother me right now. I'm literally incapable of worrying."

"Oh," said Panda. "Right."

He took his hand off their arm.


	15. Chapter 14

Fox had about twelve pancakes made by the time Trell _finally_ woke up.

He shuffled into the kitchen with his hair lopsided and his eyes half-closed and slid his arms around xyr waist, then rested his chin on xyr head.

"Morning," xe said.

"How're you doing this shirtless," he mumbled. "You'll burn your nipples off."

"I'm hoping my boobs'll shrink so they'll actually fit in those fucking tactical vests," Fox said. "Y'know, like clothes in a dryer."

"Nooooo," said Trell. He grasped both xyr breasts firmly. "I'll protect them."

Fox laughed, leaning back against him, and he kissed xyr neck.

"Keep that up while I'm cooking and you'll get tiny hands," xe said.

"You've made a billion pancakes," he said. "You can be done."

"Well let me finish _this_ one, otherwise I'll burn the flat down and you'll have to do this all over again," xe said.

"Mmmm," said Trell, resting his chin on xyr head again. "Fine."

Xe finished the thirteenth pancake in good time, managing to flip it properly even with Trell's arms still around xem.

"D'you want breakfast, or are you just a shambling boob-zombie?" xe asked him, as xe turned off the stove.

"Booooooobs," said Trell, squeezing xyrs. Xe laughed again.

"You're not having them," xe said.

"Just half," said Trell. "You said yourself you wanted them to fit in the vests. You can spare half. We'll share."

"You get the left, I'll keep the right?"

_"Noooooo."_

"Fine, you can have righty, but she's always been my favorite, so you owe me."

"Thanks," he said. He kissed xyr neck again. Xe stretched xyr arms over xyr head and stood up on xyr tip-toes, stretching as tall as xe could.

"If you wanted morning sex, you should've got on it before I made breakfast," xe said, draping xyr arms back over Trell's shoulders.

"Never said I wanted that," said Trell. He kissed xyr neck again, once, twice, three times. "Who said I wanted that?"

"Just going to stand there holding my boobs all morning?"

"I'm a shirt now. I'm _your_ shirt now."

"Mm, maybe I ought to try you on, then," said Fox. "Just to see if you fit."

One of his hands slid down xyr stomach, found the waistband of xyr boxers. He kissed xyr neck again, lingering. His fingers traced xyr hip bone, skin to skin. Xe hummed in pleasure as they found more sensitive flesh.

"I dunno," he murmured, probing, testing, teasing. "Might be a bit big for you."

"Don't flatter yourself," xe said. Xyr hips were rocking involuntarily with the slow motions of his fingers.

"Oh, you know me," he said. He was pressed against xyr back, letting xyr hips grind against his. "I've got a teeny tiny little . . . ego. Hate to brag, wouldn't dream of it."

"And how's your dick, in terms of size?" xe inquired, ignoring the fact that it was currently pressed against xyr tailbone, warm and firm.

"Small," said Trell. He found something to do with his thumb that was simply _delightful._ "I've got a small dick. A little Richard. It does gospel _and_ rock 'n' roll."

Fox burst out laughing, throwing xyr head back, and Trell kissed xyr neck and xyr collarbone, xyr shoulder. He squeezed xyr boob, massaging.

"Mm, y'know, I've just said _no morning sex,_ but you're making an awfully good case for it," Fox said.

"Oh? Won't your billion pancakes get cold?"

"Well, between them or me, I'd rather it be them," xe said.

"Nah, we'd best just leave it there," he said, in a direct contradiction to what his hands were encouraging. "Maybe we can pick it back up afterwards."

"Just gonna leave me like this, Trelly-belly?" Fox asked. Xe was getting rather breathless. "All sexed up and nowhere to go?"

He kissed xyr ear, xyr jaw. No matter how xe used xyr hips, he simply refused to pick up his pace, and it was unbearable.

"Might do," he said.

"Trellimar Toffolo, if you're not inside me in the next three _minutes,_ I am never making you pancakes again," Fox threatened.

"Oh, damn," said Trell. "Oh, dear. I shall have to stop what I'm doing and scurry off to find—"

His voice cut off in a strained squeak. He went stiff, his fingers curling painfully inside xem. Cursing, Fox extracted xemself from his arms and lowered him to the floor, laid him on his left side. His eyes, slowly, rolled back in his head. His face contorted, and one arm stretched up aimlessly. Granamyr came barreling over, meowing and pacing next to Trell's head. Fox kept one eye on the clock and one eye on Trell.

The seizure wasn't the worst xe'd ever seen, and it was thankfully short—a little under two minutes before the worst of it tapered off. Granamyr spent the whole thing determinedly licking the spit from Trell's mouth, which looked unpleasant for both of them but _was_ actually helpful. As Trell settled, panting and pained, Fox stroked his face and arm, murmuring assurances to him. That, really, was the most difficult part, because xe didn't _know_ it was okay. Maybe it _wasn't_ okay, he _wasn't_ going to be all right, maybe something horrific had happened, maybe—God forbid—he'd just _died_ or something. And xe just had to sit there and say soft things until he got his brains back together and could tell xem what the hell was going to happen in an hour.

Maybe the sex would have been really, _really_ bad. Fox put a hand over xyr mouth to hold in the the nervous, incongruous laughter. Granamyr, for his part, curled up against Trell's chest and purred like an outboard motor.

Finally, Trell mumbled out something comprehensible.

"Time?" he said.

"Minute forty-nine," Fox said. "You've been out for about seven minutes, all together."

He groaned and tried to sit up, then seemed to think better of it. Granamyr snuggled up closer to him, putting a possessive paw on his wrist.

"What happened?" Fox asked. "Or, will happen. Would've happened?"

Trell shook his head.

"Get dressed," he said. His voice was hoarse and weak.

Fox clenched xyr teeth, pursing xyr lips, then leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Okay," xe said.

* * *

 

Trell had dragged himself into his papasan chair and was halfway sitting up by the time Fox had gotten xemself decent enough for company and also ready enough for a fight. Granamyr was in his lap, apparently holding him down.

"So," Fox said, jamming a knife into its holster in xyr belt. "What's coming?"

"Dr. Sounds and somebody named Panda," said Trell. He really didn't sound at all good. He was swaying where he sat.

"Well, I'll put the kettle on, then, shall I?" said Fox. "Good thing I made so many fucking pancakes. _Don't_ tell me you've skipped back because they walked in on us fucking, because that'd be the silliest thing you've ever done."

"They sort of did, but that's not why," said Trell.

"What'll they be wanting?"

"They think I've kidnapped Rythian," he said.

"They _what?_ Rythian's been _kidnapped?"_ Fox cried. _"Fuck!_ Shit, Jesus shit-dicking _Christ,_ I fucking _knew it!_ I'm gonna fucking _kill_ that cock-juggling son of a bitch—"

"Fox," Trell said flatly.

Xe reigned xemself in, teeth clenched, breathing through xyr nose.

"Okay," said Fox. "I'm okay. So why do Dr. Sounds and her buddy think _you've_ kidnapped him?"

"Fuck if I know, Fox," Trell sighed. "Because they've worked out I'm Powered but they haven't worked out how."

"And why've you skipped back?"

"So I can prove it," said Trell.

"You could've fucking _started_ with that," said Fox. "Fuck's sake, I thought somebody was gonna _die,_ Trell!"

"Somebody might," Trell said, shrugging. "The Panda fellow is _awfully_ high-strung."

"Right. Fantastic. When're they getting here?"

"What time is it?"

"About eleven."

"Oh. Then right just about now."

_"Trell—"_

There was a knock at the door. Fox glared at Trell for a moment, but his eyes had drifted closed and his head was nodding wearily, so he couldn't appreciate it. Xe went and answered the door.

"It's about Rythian, Trell didn't do it, and I can prove it," Fox said immediately.

Dr. Sounds gawped at xem, as off-balance as if Fox had kicked her in the head. Next to her, a short, young Black man with an eyepatch and a shock of red hair at the front of his head—probably Panda—went from surprised to suspicious in half a second flat.

"How d'you know all that?" he demanded. One hand was hovering near his belt, but Fox couldn't see any weapons. Xyr hand stayed loose at xyr side, such that if xe _did_ have to go for xyr knife, the movement wouldn't have been telegraphed far in advance.

"You'd better come in," Fox said, standing aside.

Dr. Sounds and Panda filed in cautiously. Trell lifted his head, peering at them.

"Hullo," he said. He rubbed his face. Granamyr dug his claws into Trell's leg, flattening his ears back as the two entered. Fox shut the door behind them.

"Short answer to _how I know all that_ is because he told me," Fox said, cocking a thumb at Trell. "By the way, d'you want pancakes? I've made a shitload and they're all getting cold."

"No," said Dr. Sounds, annoyed. "What d'you know about Rythian? And what's _he_ got to do with everything?"

"Do the Rythian bit first," Trell mumbled. He couldn't keep his eyes open.

 _"I_ _'ve_ known something was up since last night," said Fox. "Even without Trell. He didn't show up for Strife's banquet. I would've called you, but I was told not to."

"Oh you _were,_ were you?" Dr. Sounds said, with rancor in her voice.

"Yeah," said Fox, matching it tone-for-tone. "Strife said I shouldn't go _borrowing trouble,_ and especially not yours. The prick."

"And you _listened?"_ Panda said, incredulous.

"Yeah, well, if I don't, I'm out of a job," said Fox, folding xyr arms. "Funny, that."

"You could've said something anyway!" he retorted. "When he wasn't looking, or whatever! Why didn't you just fucking call somebody when you got home?"

"How the fuck was _I_ supposed to know he'd been fucking kidnapped?" Fox snapped.

"Your fucking _boyfriend_ knew!"

"Not until you told me," Trell said, still a little mush-mouthed. Panda rounded on him.

"I never fucking told you _anything,"_ he snapped. His hand was at his belt again.

"Panda, stop it," said Dr. Sounds. "Let's—let's take this a bit slower. We're all scared, and we're all upset, and we don't have all the information. Just . . . settle. For a bit."

Panda glared at her. There was a sudden blur of movement that dumped adrenaline into Fox's system, and then Panda was leaned up against the wall almost ten feet away, tapping his foot like a rabbit. Fox came up out of the fighting stance xe'd automatically dropped into and took xyr hand off the knife in xyr belt. Xe took a slow, deep breath.

Trell wouldn't let xem get hurt. If anything went horribly wrong and xe couldn't fend for xemself, he'd pop back and make sure it went right. Xe was living in the safest present possible. He'd make sure of it.

"Good plan," Fox said to Dr. Sounds. "Trell, d'you want to explain, or should I?"

"I will," he said. He took a deep breath. He was rubbing Granamyr behind the ears, his eyes half-lidded and his head bowed.

"Whenever it's convenient," Panda said nastily.

"Oy, fuck off," Fox snapped. "He's just had a seizure, don't be such a fucking prick."

Panda opened his mouth to retort and was instantly silenced by a glare from Dr. Sounds. He closed his mouth again, fuming.

"I'm Powered," Trell began. "You knew that. But I don't think there's anyone else like me. I don't even think there's a real name for what I am." He took another deep breath. "I can travel in time."

"Bull- _shit,"_ said Dr. Sounds.

"That's _impossible,"_ Panda scoffed. He glanced at Dr. Sounds. "I mean. Isn't it?"

 _"Only Zylus would know you're thinking up that stupid question,"_ Trell said.

Dr. Sounds went pale as cream. Panda pushed off the wall, his hand once again going to his empty belt.

"I asked you, last time round, what I could possibly say to convince you that I was telling the truth," Trell went on. "And that's what you told me."

"That—no," said Dr. Sounds, her voice shaking. "That isn't—you could just be a-a-a telepath, or—or—"

"Were you thinking it before I said it?" Trell asked. He scratched Granamyr under the chin.

"I don't know _how_ you did it, but I know there's a better explanation than _time travel!"_ Dr. Sounds said.

"He really, actually can do it," said Fox. "I believe him."

"Well— _how?"_ Dr. Sounds cried. "Riddle me _that,_ Batman, fucking _how?"_

"No idea," said Trell. "But I know the seizures have got something to do with it. I think it's like . . . my brain and my body aren't quite connected. Or . . . my _mind_ and my body. _Me_ and my body. And if something goes wrong, I pop out, and go back an hour, and hop back in, and an hour's worth of memories get stuffed into my head all at once and I have a seizure."

 _"Slaughterhouse Five,"_ Panda said suddenly.

Trell looked up for the first time. He smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it's just like _Slaughterhouse Five,_ only I can only go back and I can only do an hour. And I can do it on purpose. So . . . not all that much like _Slaughterhouse Five,_ honestly, except sort of conceptually."

"Sorry, what?" said Nano, looking between the two of them.

"It's a book," said Panda. "Kurt Vonnegut. It's about this guy who's like, come unstuck in time, and his consciousness sort of shifts about through his own life. It's all about how our perception of the universe is super limited and the absurdity of the human condition and all that." He turned back to Trell. "But _seriously,_ you're . . . you're Billy Pilgrim-ing it?"

"Sort of," said Trell. "Like a limited, semi-intentional Billy Pilgrim-ing. And I can change things, the second time round. Obviously."

"That's fucked up," said Panda, although he sounded impressed.

"Yeah, a bit," said Trell.

"How'd you even work out you could do it?"

Trell fidgeted.

"Well," he said. "If I'm about to die I'll pop back on my own."

Panda recoiled. "That's _super_ fucked up."

"You're telling me," said Trell. "First time was a car crash, when I was nine. At first I thought I was having, like, premonitions, and that's what the seizures were about. Only, _having the seizure_ changes things. We didn't get in the car to go to my Nan's the second time. My Dad called an ambulance and I went to hospital and there wasn't even a _chance_ of the same car crash. Then it was about four years of nothing, and I fell off a roof and it happened again. It was only half an hour, back then. Once I started trying to do it on purpose, I pushed it back. Sort of like training. But I can't go any further than an hour. I've tried. I can't daisy-chain it, because there's a cool-down period of about half an hour. I can't go forward, either. If I know I'm going to be doing it, I can lie down for a bit beforehand, and then when I pop back I don't have to worry about falling over."

"So—let me get this straight," Dr. Sounds said. "You, right now, are in the second repetition of some . . . time-loop?"

"Not a loop," said Trell. "God forbid. I almost always keep on going. If I skip back more than once to the same time the seizures get worse, which makes sense because then it's two hours' worth of memory getting crammed back in. But yeah, this is the second time round."

"And . . . that's how you knew we were coming, and what we wanted, and what I might say to convince _myself_ that your Powers are what you say they are," said Dr. Sounds.

"Yes," said Trell.

"And how you knew Rythian had been kidnapped?"

"Yep."

"Because we told you."

"Got it in one."

"And every time you skip back, you have a seizure."

"Every time."

Dr. Sounds's eyes narrowed.

"What happened in the _first_ hour after I met you?" she said.

Trell's eyes went wide. He swallowed.

"Oh," he said. "Right."

"Yeah, Trell," Fox said, turning to him and folding xyr arms. "What _did_ happen?"

Trell gulped again. He chewed his lip. Granamyr stretched and dug his claws into Trell's leg.

"Well," he said. "Er. About that."

"Yes, _about that,"_ said Dr. Sounds.

"I think we'd _all_ like to hear _about that,"_ Fox said.

"Don't gang up on me, I've just had a seizure!" Trell whined. "Look, I'm—not sure I can tell you. It could be dangerous. It could get you in an awful lot of trouble."

"I'm already in an awful lot of trouble," Dr. Sounds countered. "I exist in a _permanent state_ of _an awful lot of trouble._ And you, Mr. Toffolo, you are about to join me there!"

"Fine! Christ's sake. Look." He tipped his head back, regarding the ceiling and licking his lips. "It's . . . it's something to do with Strife."

"Isn't it _fucking_ always," said Panda.

"Fantastic, I was going to go give him an earful anyway," Dr. Sounds said. "Come on, let's have it."

"He's . . . been having me break into Medical," said Trell. "Trying to work out how much of their magic serum they've got. That's project B714-LE. He stole some from them, but he hasn't worked out how to make more."

"And he's having you steal it?" Panda asked.

"No, that wouldn't work," said Trell. "I can't take anything with me when I pop back. Except—" He tapped his forehead.

"So you're a _spy,"_ said Panda.

"Pretty much," said Trell. "Only . . . I _was_ a spy. He's gone a bit . . . extreme. Recently. Because, you know, I can do literally anything with no . . . _external_ consequences, so long as it takes less than an hour."

Dr. Sounds drew a slow breath, straightening up. Her fists clenched at her sides.

"Mr. Toffolo," she said quietly. "What the _hell_ did you do with me?"

 _"With,"_ he said hurriedly. "Key word is _with._ And . . . I'm really not sure I should tell you."

"I'm really sure you should," she retorted.

"Look, it's not—I'm only—I'm concerned that if I tell you, somebody'll die," he said. "All right?"

"Did somebody _last_ time round?" she said, her voice pitched high with frustration.

"Sssssort of?" said Trell.

"Trell, for fuck's sake, just tell the woman what happened," Fox cut in.

Trell sighed. He shut his eyes. He laid a hand on Granamyr's back.

"I hadn't been getting far enough on my own," he said. "They'd always catch me, and as soon as anybody breaks out a taser, I'm gone. I can't help it, it's automatic. Strife figured an actual YogLabs employee could get farther than I could."

"So why not Bebop?" Dr. Sounds demanded. "He's about as buddy-buddy as you can _get_ with Strife."

"I've asked the same thing, why he can't just _ask_ them about it," said Trell. "But of course, they don't know he's stolen any, and _he's_ not supposed to know they've even _got_ it. It's very hush-hush on both sides, so now I've got caught up in the crossfire." He paused. "Sometimes literally."

"Typical," Dr. Sounds muttered. "So who _sort of_ died last time?"

"Er," said Trell, fidgeting.

 _"Wh_ _o died_ _?"_ Dr. Sounds insisted.

"Well," said Trell, his voice squeaking. "Well, namely you. And me."

She stared at him. Panda's eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline. Fox rubbed xyr temple.

"I'm having some pancakes," xe said. "I can't be dealing with this on an empty stomach."

"How the _fuck_ did you manage to get me _killed?"_ Dr. Sounds demanded.

"I don't s'pose you'll let me get off with saying that I shouldn't tell you because you might get killed again."

"No, that'd be a very wrong supposition!"

Trell sighed. Fox got a plate out of the cabinet and put a couple of pancakes on it. Xe started rooting around for some syrup or something.

"Okay, well, look, Strife shot you," said Trell.

"The _hell_ he did!"

"Mother _fucker,"_ Panda said. "I fucking _knew_ he was still a bastard!"

"Er, but . . . I'll tell you why," said Trell. "But you've got to swear you won't go confronting him about it, because that's when he'll shoot you."

"I promise he won't get the fucking chance," Dr. Sounds said. Fox found some maple syrup and drizzled it liberally on xyr pancakes.

"That's what I was afraid you'd say," Trell sighed. "All right. I was _supposed_ to get you to help me get the serum. But that's not what actually happened. Actually, I told you that . . . that the thing that popped off you wasn't dead. _And then_ you got—"

 _"What,"_ Nano interrupted. Fox nearly dropped the bottle of maple syrup.

"Wait, you didn't _know?"_ xe cried. "Fucking hell, right, let's go kick some American _arse,_ that son of a bitch—"

"Could I finish?" Trell said politely.

"Please," said Dr. Sounds. She was looking rather green.

"They kept it and experimented on it," said Trell. "It escaped in December. They told me what it was because I'm a custodian and I s'pose they figured I'd run into it anyway."

"And _all this fucking time,_ nobody's thought to fucking _tell me?"_

"Strife's been deliberately making sure you didn't find out," said Trell. "Most people thought you already knew. Like Fox."

"Yeah, because I was _fucking told,"_ said Fox. "Fucking _lied_ to, that bitch-whore from hell, I'll twist his fucking _balls_ off—"

"When you went to confront him about it with me, he shot you," Trell went on, talking over Fox's continuing string of invectives. "Twice. And then he shot me."

"Oh, fuck _that,"_ said Panda. "I'll kill the bastard before he gets halfway to the gun."

"This—shit, fuck," Dr. Sounds said. She rubbed her face. She shook her head. "This isn't getting us any closer to finding Rythian."

"It might," said Panda. "Who fucking _know_ s what else Strife's been up to. Maybe Rythian's under Solutions Tower right now."

"I doubt it," said Fox. "Strife spent the whole fucking banquet sweating through his shirt 'cause he didn't have his Powered bodyguard to show off. Pitched a little bitch-fit when he heard he'd gone missing. I don't think he was faking it, either, 'cause he put an awful lot of effort into pretending like he _wasn't_ scared."

Dr. Sounds had her hands over her nose and mouth and was breathing into them, slowly, deliberately.

"We've _got_ to find Rythian," she said. "Before anything else. Before everything else. He could be hurt, and who knows how much time we've got."

"Well," said Fox, digging into xyr pancakes. "You've got my help. Trell?"

"If I must," Trell sighed.

"I think you must," said Fox. "Considering you kept your little secret all this time."

"Fine," Trell muttered.

"Super, fantastic, _this's_ been a total dead-end," said Panda. "S'pose we'll just have to hope Lal's been getting on better."

"We'll hope," said Dr. Sounds.


	16. Chapter 15

_16:02:38:25.8323_

Not many people, Lalna considered, had the dubious privilege of knowing when they'd die to the fourth decimal place.It had taken them forty minutes to get to _The Captive Creeper._ Nano had called and requested Trellimar Toffolo's home address, and finding it had cost five seconds. They'd paid another two minutes to construct a probable dialogue tree for the coming encounter. They had picked the optimal walking pace for energy conservation, and each step still consumed six tenths of a second above the baseline operating cost.

The pub was closed when Lalna arrived, unsurprising considering how early in the day it was. Still, it was Thomas Angor's home address, and if he lived there, he must have had some way of getting in and out even when the pub doors were locked. Lalna made a slow circuit of the building, gauging its dimensions, plotting out all the exits, constructing a three-dimensional map of it for themself. The placement of windows clued them in to where the staircases were, the load-bearing interior walls and the general division of volume inside the structure. They concluded that the gray door in the rear of the building must lead to the basement, where, as Nano had mentioned to them over a year ago, Thomas Angor conducted his business.

It was a lot of calculations to run. Five minutes' work cost them half an hour.

_16:02:03:31.9478_

Lalna knocked on the door. They had determined that courtesy was optimal, at least to start with.

There was an immediate stirring at their knock, but it took over two minutes for anyone to answer. Lalna knocked again twice in that time, just to make sure whoever was responding didn't think they'd gone away. At last, the door cracked open and a white, bearded face peered out. Odds were good that it belonged to Thomas Angor.

"Hullo?" it said.

"Hi," said Lalna. "Have you seen Rythian in the past eighteen hours?"

The eyes narrowed. "Who're you?"

"I'm his partner," said Lalna.

"Nope! Haven't seen him in months," Thomas Angor said quickly. He tried to shut the door. Lalna caught it before it had moved an inch. They flipped their interpersonal software on, just for a few seconds.

Thomas Angor was lying. He'd seen Rythian, _very_ recently. He was embarrassed. He was _afraid._ Rythian had been here and he'd been alive and Thomas Angor had _seen_ him and _something_ had happened and it wasn't okay, Rythian wasn't okay, he was gone _again_ and this time he really definitely certainly _hadn't wanted to go—_

_16:01:58:43.8471_

They turned the interpersonal software back off.

"You're lying," they said. "It's really very important that you tell me the truth. He's been kidnapped."

Thomas Angor's eyes went wide. His jaw slackened. He stared at Lalna for a moment, glanced over his own shoulder, and chewed on his lip.

"How do I know you're who you say you are?" he asked. "Or that Rythian's _actually_ gone missing?"

"You're wasting my time," Lalna said. They shoved the door open. They grabbed Thomas Angor around the throat. They picked him up. The door swung shut behind them, leaving only dim illumination. The red light from their eyes provided most of it. Thomas Angor squeaked and kicked out wildly.

_"Put—put me down!"_ he choked, clutching Lalna's wrist.

"Tell me about the last time you saw Rythian," they instructed.

_"Can't—hghhhk—please—"_

Lalna considered him, observing. His face was getting redder. They let him go. He dropped to the floor, coughing and wheezing.

"Fuck is _wrong_ with you?" he demanded hoarsely. Lalna knelt down and put their hands on either side of Thomas Angor's head.

"It requires approximately two thousand, three hundred Newtons of force to crush a human skull," Lalna informed him. "I can produce three thousand Newtons. With each arm."

Thomas Angor's reddened face turned white. His Adam's apple bobbed.

_16:01:56:38.6718_

"Tell me about the last time you saw Rythian," Lalna said.

"Last—no, night before last," Thomas Angor stammered. "He—it was raining, I let him—let him in for a bit, we—we—we got high, Minty took—Minty—she brought him home, I—I don't know anything, I swear, I swear I don't know _anything—"_

Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"He didn't mention seeing you," they said. "I saw him yesterday morning, and he didn't mention coming here or getting high. You almost said _last night,_ when you started. Was it _actually_ last night, and you're lying to me again?"

_"No!_ No no, no, it was night before last, I'm sure, I'm completely sure, I haven't seen him since! We just—I just—it wasn't anything, we just watched some stupid—some stupid show and—and—and I never touched him, I never, he didn't even—he said you'd—"

Lalna applied twenty Newtons of force between their palms. Thomas Angor shrieked and tried to jerk free. Lalna did not let him.

"Did he consent to drug usage?" they asked.

"Yes!" he gasped. There were tears rolling down his face. "I only offered, he wasn't—he didn't—I-I-I might've got him a little higher than he expected but he was all right with it, nothing _happened,_ I haven't _done_ anything, _please—"_

"Be quiet," said Lalna, not harshly. Thomas Angor pressed both hands to his mouth, holding back further babbling. Again, Lalna clicked the interpersonal software on to gauge his honesty. It instantly started yanking protocols from the morality database and _flooded_ them with guilt.

_What have you done what have you DONE look at him you're hurting him you're scaring him what are you doing this is wrong this is wrong this is WRONG—_

They turned it back off again very quickly.

_16:01:53:02.1325_

"Are there security cameras here?" they asked.

_Mm-hm,_ Thomas Angor said, through his lips and his fingers and his sobs.

Lalna sent out a general ping and found the stored footage. They flipped back to two nights ago. They saw Rythian enter through the back door around eleven p.m. They saw him leave through the front around three a.m. They took their hands off Thomas Angor's head and stood up.

"Thanks," they said. "Let us know if you hear from him, okay?"

Thomas Angor whimpered. Lalna let themself out. 

* * *

  

Having nothing else to do, Lalna returned to the four-bedroom flat to wait for word from Nano and Panda. The walk took forty minutes. It cost them eighty, because of the cost of walking and because they were thinking about the conversation with Thomas Angor.

_16:00:30:59.5152_

Since they'd pulled the footage from the _Captive Creeper,_ it was fresh in their mind when they got back to the flat. They spent a couple of seconds finding security footage there, too—it was an upscale enough complex that closed circuit security systems were universally employed.

They found that, for the hour between one o'clock and two o'clock p.m., the footage had been tampered with. They did not look too closely. They couldn't afford to overheat again. What they _did_ do was download the footage, so they could send it on to Nano as soon as she was available.

They let themself into the flat quietly, in case Nilesy was still in a state where minimal disturbance was called for. There was no longer a sound of gushing water, so presumably the plumber had come and fixed up the bathroom. Lomadia and Nilesy were not out in the main room, although Lalna could detect Lomadia's voice, very faintly, coming from the back of the flat. They determined that she was in Nilesy's room, and slipped back to poke their head in.

Lomadia was sitting on the bed, her back against the wall and her legs stretched out in front of her. Nilesy was lying on his side with his head pillowed on one of her thighs. She was stroking his hair. He still was not wearing a shirt, and the wounds that Lalna had marked out as 'requiring stitches' had been rebandaged. Lomadia looked up as they entered.

"Hi," she said, very softly.

"Hi," they replied, just above the threshold of her hearing. "Did the plumber and police come?"

"Yeah," she said. "The plumber fixed it so water wouldn't come out and the police said they'd keep looking. They didn't find anything. Did you?"

"Not really," said Lalna. "I'm sure it was a planned kidnapping now, though. Someone tampered with the security footage here. Have you heard from Nano and Panda?"

"No," said Lomadia. "Or not yet. I guess it's taking them a while."

"I'll call Nano and find out," Lalna said, already connecting to her phone. "How's Nilesy?"

"Tired," said Lomadia. "Hurt. Probably scared. He won't tell me what happened. I'm not sure he knows what happened."

"I picked him up too fast and he had a flashback," Lalna said. In a different part of their brain, the call connected and Nano's phone began to ring. "I'm pretty sure that's what happened, anyway. It was really similar to the last flashback I observed."

"Oh," said Lomadia. "I guess that makes sense."

She touched Nilesy's arm, very gently. Amongst the other bruises, there was a fresh set rising, red and purple, in the shape of Lalna's hand.

The interpersonal software somehow turned itself back on.

**_YOU HURT HIM HOW COULD YOU HE'S YOUR BROTHER—_ **

They turned it back off and password protected it.

_16:00:27:38.7405_

"I didn't think it would bother him," they said. "But I've added that particular scenario to my list of his triggers, so it won't happen again."

In that other part of their brain, Nano answered her phone.

_"Hey,"_ she said. _"Any luck?"_

_"Not really,"_ they answered. _"But I found out the security footage from one to two was tampered with. That's probably when he got taken."_

"I guess that's good," said Lomadia. "I did stitches on the cuts that were really bad. I think that messed with him, too, because he got all quiet again. I'm pretty sure he's sleeping now."

"He is," Lalna confirmed. "You can tell by the heart rate."

_"Shit,"_ said Nano. _"That's not good. We're in about the same place here. Trell didn't kidnap him, but—well. There's some complications."_

_"What sort of complications?"_

Lomadia was frowning down at Nilesy. She was still touching that bruise on his arm.

"You hurt him," she said quietly.

"I didn't _mean_ to," they said.

_"Complications as in Strife fucking kept the thing that grew out of me, and experimented on it for months, and then it escaped."_

_"That's probably not good."_

"It doesn't matter whether you _meant_ to, you _did,"_ Lomadia insisted, glaring at them.

_16:00:25:51.1000_

"Okay," Lalna said, shrugging. They turned away. "I can't keep up two conversations anymore, it's taking too much power."

_"Yeah, I'd say not!"_

_"I don't see what it's got to do with this, though."_

They walked away, going to sit on the couch in the main room. They closed their eyes and abandoned their lifelike movement protocol, allowing themself to hold perfectly still.

_"It—well,"_ said Nano. _"Nothing, really, it's just . . . another wrinkle. We were about to head back. We're thinking of bringing Trell and Fox, so they can help out."_

_"I guess that's all right. If you think we can trust them. I don't think they can do anything, honestly. Unless Trell's got some sort of Powers that might help."_

_"Well, maybe. He . . . says he can travel back in time. Just an hour, but. . . ."_

_"How?"_ Lalna asked. Before Nano had even started to answer, they were running probabilities, trying to pick out a feasible mechanism.

_"He doesn't know,"_ said Nano. _"I'm not totally convinced he really can, either."_

_"It should be pretty easy to test,"_ said Lalna. _"I could come up with something."_

They were, in fact, already coming up with several somethings. They wouldn't even require much laboratory equipment, and all of it was things that could be got hold of at YogLabs.

_"I'm not sure it matters right now, Lal,"_ Nano said.

_"It could,"_ said Lalna.

_"He can only go back an hour. It's too late for him to do anything about this mess. Look, we'll just come back, and he can explain it to you, all right?"_

_"All right, I guess,"_ they said, miffed.

_"Okay. How're Lom and Nilesy?"_

_"They're all right."_

There was a rather long pause.

_"Er, right. Okay. Great. I'll just—we'll be back in about half an hour. Will you tell them that?"_

_"Sure."_

_"Okay. Thanks, Lal. See you soon."_

_"Bye."_

Nano hung up. Lalna fell to musing—about Rythian, about Nano's unwanted passenger, and about the purported Powers of Trellimar Toffolo.

_16:00:23:28.2015_

They could really have used a nap.

* * *

 

Thirty-three minutes later, Nano and Panda arrived back at the flat. They brought with them two people—one tall and Black and pudgy, one short and brown-skinned and energetic. Nano made the introductions, quickly and brusquely.

"Fox, Trell, this is Lalna," she said. "Lal, this is Trell, and—I s'pose you've met Fox?"

"Not really," said Lalna. They shook Trell's hand, then Fox's. "But I've heard lots about xem."

"All good, I hope," said Fox, cracking a smile.

"No," said Lalna. "It was mostly complaining, actually."

"What, _seriously?_ That's it, soon as we find Rythian—"

**L41_bscvrd_cmd_5_priority//  
** **sys.sensory_array//  
** **STOP_ALL.rpd//  
** **filename{"Salutations"}//  
** **PLAY.rpd//**

Darkness and silence clapped down around Lalna. They could not feel their body around them—there was no haptic feedback, no vestibular monitoring, no proprioception. They had been yanked out of themself and stuffed into a tiny box of code inside their own head.

And now someone was playing a movie for them. It was startlingly well-made, high definition, over a hundred frames per second, stereo sound. It was almost as though Lalna was there.

The opening image was of a small, round-faced person, with mottled purple skin and milk-white eyes. There was an old scar in their scalp, likely from some sort of brain surgery. The hair around it was still shaved, although the rest of their hair fell to their jaw, black and glossy. They were wearing a red, collared blouse with gold trim. There was a blank white wall behind them, tiled and shiny.

"Hiya, Lalna," they said, in a chipper, high-pitched voice. "This is your antivirus software, reminding you _not_ to download random shit you find lying about!"

They giggled, showing teeth. They rolled their eyes.

"Only joking. Nah, but seriously, I could've killed you just now, and I've chosen not to. I want you know that, all right? I could kill you right now, if I wanted. Just a little command prompt to pop your power core back up to eight thousand percent and you'd be dead in _seconds._ But that's _not_ what I'm here for, which is why I'm not doing it."

Lalna attempted to pause the video. They were slapped on the wrist with a priority override and the video continued without so much as a hiccup.

"So obviously, I know who _you_ are," the person said. "But you don't know who _I_ am. You can call me Specimen Five. That's the only name they ever gave me, and if I've got to live with it, so does everyone else. You might've guessed I'm also the girl who fucked up your power core. And I know _all about_ your energy problems."

Specimen Five stuck her lip out, her eyebrows pulling up and together.

"And sweetheart, I feel just _awful_ about it," she said. "That's why I got in contact with you. I've actually got a solution, if you want it. Thought I'd at least make the offer, since I'm the one who messed you up so bad."

She stretched out a hand, groping. The camera twitched, like it had been bumped by something. Specimen Five brought a large glass jar into frame. There was a tangled, sinewy, pink thing inside, covered in white knobbles, floating in some sort of yellowish fluid. It was about the size of a ping-pong ball.

"This little thing is called a _voltaic node,"_ Specimen Five said, hefting the jar and the organ inside. "It's really, _really_ good at turning chemical energy into electrical energy. I'm sure you could do an _awful_ lot with that. And you can have it."

Her face twisted, a huge grin showing nearly all her teeth, her eyes narrowing to crescent moons.

"After all, _Rythian's_ not using it anymore."

Lalna's interpersonal software broke containment again. They were flooded with such a frothing mass of rage and terror and _hatred_ that it made even the untouchable video file flicker. They wrestled to get it back under control, but with the priority override in effect, they were powerless. All they could do was watch, screaming in silence inside their own head.

"If you want it, you can drop by your old laboratory anytime. It'll be in there, in a nice little incubator where it won't die off. At least, not in the next sixteen days. After that, it won't matter much, will it?"

She giggled again. She put the jar and the voltaic node aside.

"Drop by and see me sometime, sweetheart. And bring Nano. I'd _love_ to have Nano over. Buh-bye!"

The vision went dark, and there was a single sound, prolonged, protracted, clear as a bell and burned indelibly into Lalna's memory.

It was the sound of Rythian screaming.

**L41_bscvrd_cmd_5_priority//  
** **end//**

"—Lalna?"

Everything came back online. They were lying in a bathtub full of water. Their core temperature was dangerously high, even with the water all around them absorbing the heat. Fumbling, they shut down the interpersonal software.

Nano was leaning over them, her face pinched, one brown eye and one milk-white, skin mottled purplish with acid scarring.

"Hi," they said.

"Jesus," Nano said, sagging. "What _happened?"_

Lalna made a face.

"Oh boy," they said. "You're not going to like this one."

_15:23:12:09.1218_


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is uh ... pretty intense. Also somewhat NSFW so beware!

Rythian woke slowly, blurred and cold. His mask was gone. His shirt was gone. There was cold plastic against his back. There were padded restraints around his wrists, his ankles. There was a thick leather collar around his neck, clipped to the thing he was lying on. The room was brightly lit, and filled with a chemical stench that made his sinuses prickle. The air was dry enough that he wasn't arcing through his lungs, but there were still sparks in them, dancing and uncomfortable.

He tugged at the restraints. His muscles were watery, his movements uncoordinated. His struggles grew more frantic as they yielded no results, until he was rattling the table, gasping and whimpering, halfway to screaming with frustration and terror.

"Ooh, look who's awake."

Rythian froze, his heart hammering in his chest. He tried to look around, but he couldn't move his head much. His wrists were raw, his throat half-crushed.

"Nano?" he croaked. "Nano, what—what's going on, why—"

She giggled, a rising titter that ended in a squeak.

"Oh, Rythian, Rythian," she sighed. "You're not terribly bright, are you."

"Why—why are you—Nano, please, I don't—I can't—"

"Rythian, sweetheart, I'm not Nano," she said. "I'm going to _kill_ Nano."

"What?"

She giggled again. He heard movement. Frantically, he tried to sit up, tried to turn his head enough to see what was going on, and promptly choked himself on the collar. Coughing, his eyes watering, he couldn't catch his breath.

"The boss said you were fun," not-Nano mused, drawing closer, slowly. "I'm just going to see for myself."

Rythian could only cough in response. His mind was whirring so fast he couldn't form any thoughts. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, something had gone awfully wrong, he was in _serious_ trouble, he had to get out, he had to—

Fox's voice bubbled out of his memory, stern and forceful.

_Use your fucking Powers._

Rythian shut his eyes and tried to breathe. He was still muzzy from the sedatives, and concentration was a struggle. He focused, pushing all of his voltage into that special point just above his diaphragm.

There was a sharp yank at his wrists and ankles, and he slammed back into the table as his voltage exploded back out through him, crackling over his skin. He gasped, sick and dizzy, fear flooding his veins.

"Ooh, no, sweetheart, that's not gonna work," not-Nano cooed. "It's the restraints, they've got silver in. Antibacterial, that, it's _very_ useful."

She moved up to the table, and he saw her for the first time.

The resemblance to Nano was uncanny, but superficial. Her skin was purplish, mottled, like she was covered in bruises. Her hair was shaved on one side, revealing a long scar on her scalp. Both of her eyes were filmed over, and only vaguely predicted her movements.

A hand touched his forehead, fingers brushing the skin. He yelped, not so much because of the touch but because _holy fuck she'd just killed herself. . . ._

But there was no gasping snatch at his voltage, no sudden discharge, and Rythian could only flinch and twitch in confusion and horror as the hand carded through his hair, small-fingered and cold, traced the shell of his ear, his cheek, his jaw. Her thumb brushed his lips while she held his chin, caressing, teasing.

"What the fuck _are_ you?" he gasped, horrified, sickened.

"That's _rude,"_ she said, making a face. Her hand trailed down his throat, traced his collarbones, his pectorals as she rounded the table. Her swollen fingers brushed one of his nipples and he squirmed.

"Stop—stop touching me," he said, trying to pull away.

"Mm, no," she said. Her hand roved over his stomach and made his skin shiver. It trailed onward, past his belly-button, along the little line of hair towards his waist.

He thrashed, bucking his hips hard before she could get any further. She laughed at him, then made her way back to his face and cupped his cheeks in her hands.

"He was right," she said. "You _are_ fun."

She kissed him on the mouth, holding his head while he struggled. She broke off with a loud _smack,_ leaving his lips burning. One of her hands trailed back to his chest, and she traced a slow pattern on his sternum with one sweaty finger.

"I can't _wait_ to get at you," she said. "You're going to be _delightful."_

His chest tingled where she'd touched it, then started to prickle. He fidgeted, wincing. The prickling worsened, intensified, until it was like needles stabbing into his chest, and then it was _burning,_ red-hot and stuck to his skin like napalm. He cried out, writhing, gasping for breath.

"Oh, _God,_ that's good," the woman breathed. "I'm just gonna need you to do that _forever."_

"What the _fuck_ do you want?" Rythian snarled, his voice cracking. "Who _are_ you? What _is_ this?" His eyes were filling with tears. The pain would not subside.

There was a soft _click,_ somewhere behind him, and then an exasperated sigh.

 _"Five,"_ someone whined, and the voice was _Lalna's,_ and the puncture in Rythian's neck ached and his breath stalled out in his chest.

"Oh! Hiya, Boss! I was just getting our patient ready," the woman said brightly, clasping her hands behind her back and coming to attention.

"I asked you not to agitate him," Lalna—not Lalna, it _couldn't_ be Lalna—said. Heavy footfalls on metal stairs, coming nearer. He couldn't focus past the pain in his chest, which wasn't subsiding.

"I was only playing, Boss," said Five. "He's _fiiiiiine._ You should've heard the noises he made. It was incredible."

"I'm sure," said the other, "but we've got _work_ to do right now. Go and get the ointment, it should be enough for this little thing."

Five pouted, but just said, "Yes, Boss," albeit dejectedly. She moved away. A huge hand tangled in Rythian's hair and pulled his head back.

Looming over him was—not Lalna, but something else. Thinner, paler, long hair, red eyes, an exhilarated intensity to their gaze.

"Hello, Rythian," they—he—said softly. "Do you know who I am?"

Rythian swallowed. He could not look away. The pain was suddenly very distant, swamped beneath a fog of fear.

"Yes," he whispered.

The other grinned, showing gleaming white teeth. The hand in his hair gripped tighter, too tight, pulling Rythian's head farther back, pressing his throat against the restraint.

"Say my name," he commanded.

Rythian clenched his fists. Trembling, he took the deepest breath he could.

"No," he said.

"You will," the other said, his eyes narrowing. "Sooner or later. I do hope it's later. I do hope you take a bit of _convincing."_

Rythian swallowed again, clenching his jaw.

"Got your ointment, Boss," Five said, arriving back at the table.

"Thank you, Five," he said, his eyes still fixed on Rythian, a smile curling at his mouth. A tongue slid out and moistened his lips, leaving a liquid sheen behind.

"D'you want me to put it on him, then?"

"If you would be so kind."

"If we're going to fix him up anyway, can I do just a bit more? I want you to hear the noises."

"We've got _work_ to do, Five," the other said gently. "We can play afterwards."

"Fuck you," Rythian snapped. His voice was shaking.

The other laughed. Cold, gooey paste touched Rythian's chest, and he twitched. The hand in his hair was gripping so tight that he couldn't even look down to see what was happening. Once again, his chest started to tingle, but this time the pain faded instead of intensifying.

"There," Five said, pouting again. "Can we get on with it?"

"Of course," said the other. He finally let go of Rythian's hair and moved away. "Is everything ready?"

"Sure is, Boss! I got it all set up before you got here."

 _"Ex_ -cellent. If you could go ahead and put our patient under."

"Under? Under what?" Rythian blurted, panicked. "What are you doing to me?"

"You got it, Boss! No problem. Though it's not like it's _easy._ It's not a job _anybody_ could do, y'know. It takes a lot of calculation, it's a science."

"Five," the other sighed, exasperated.

"What the _fuck_ are you _doing to me?"_ Rythian cried. Tears were gathering in his eyes again. Five had moved away, and now he couldn't see either of them.

"Say my name," said the other, "and maybe I'll tell you."

A plastic mask slipped over Rythian's face, and he thrashed, gasping, half-screaming through his teeth.

"Ooh, there he goes, he's doing it again!" Five said, delighted. There was some kind of gas flowing through the mask, cold against Rythian's skin.

 _"Get away from me!"_ he screamed, and choked himself on the collar again. His wrists were bleeding. His vision was starting to blur. The other came back to the table, blue gloves on his hands, a cart of tools and jars behind him. He rested a hand on Rythian's abdomen, smiling.

"Not for _quite_ some time, Rythian," he murmured. "Not for a long time yet."

Rythian fought until he couldn't fight anymore, hating every breath he gasped down. Darkness closed over him again, shallow, fleeting. He bobbed at the surface of consciousness, emerging every so often for glimpses and impressions, his body numb, his mind adrift.

Blue gloves, bloodied. Five's voice.

Spinning, dizzy, breathless. Metal sticks, reaching into him.

Something round and knobbly, red and white. Jiggling, dangling, sparking. Pulled from the hole in him.

Stitches. Slow, precise. Injections. Quick, cold.

Cold. Cold. He was so cold. He was so _cold._

A hand on his face, warm. Lalna's voice in his ear, mushy, unintelligible.

Slowly, slowly, becoming more intelligible. Consonants first, then vowels, then words. Rythian drifted back to the surface, still numb, still blurry, still so _cold._

"There now," they were saying. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Lal . . . na," Rythian mumbled, shaking his head, uncomprehending. It was too quiet in the room, like his ears had been plugged.

"Lalna- _ble,"_ he corrected. "Say my name, Rythian."

"No," Rythian managed.

Lalnable laughed, a low and sultry sound. "That's not even close," he said.

"Is it back on yet, Boss?" Five asked.

"Not yet," said Lalnable. "It might take a few more injections. We'll see."

"What . . . what did you do to me?" Rythian asked. Lalnable's face was swimming in and out of focus. There was blood on his lip, smeared. He smiled. It was so _cold,_ so unbearably _cold,_ and Rythian couldn't even shiver because his body wouldn't respond. He was numb with it, heavy with it, his breaths coming slow and deep and sluggish.

"There's an organ you've got that keeps you charged up called a _voltaic node,"_ said Lalnable. "Or there _was._ It's mine now."

Panic flooded him, adrenaline leant strength to his muscles. He lifted his head. Through his swimming vision, he could see the short, pink line on his abdomen, just below his diaphragm, nearly connecting the two older scars from YogLabs. There were stitches across it. He couldn't breathe. His heart wasn't beating. He was so _cold,_ and the sparks in his lungs were gone, and the tinnitus whine was gone, and he couldn't—and he wasn't—

He dropped his head back onto the table, nauseated. Tears slid from his eyes before he could fight them down. A warm thumb brushed them away.

"Oh, dear," Lalnable murmured. "Now I've made him cry. Not to worry, Rythian. We should be able grow it back. As many times as we need to, hahahah."

One hot palm rested over the mark on his abdomen. Rythian hiccuped, his skin crawling.

"D'you think it'll be spectacular?" Five asked.

"I hope so," said Lalnable, looking up at her and cracking a smile. "Why don't we give him another shot? It's been an hour."

"You got it, Boss!" said Five. There was a heavy _thump,_ like she'd jumped down off of something, and a moment later she arrived at his side, wheeling a cart behind her. Lalnable picked up a small vial of yellowish fluid and drew out a syringe's worth, while Five felt her way to the stitches on Rythian's abdomen and then swabbed the area with an alcohol wipe.

Lalnable rested his wrist on Rythian's ribs and touched just the tip of the syringe to his skin. He looked down on Rythian and smiled, benevolent.

"Assuming, of course, you _want_ it?" he said, teasing.

Rythian swallowed down another wave of nausea. He was starting to shiver now, even through the exhaustion. His bones were heavy and gray, filled with lead. His blood was sluggish in his veins. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes. Every inch of his skin ached. He was just so _cold. . . ._

He closed his eyes. He gritted his teeth.

"Yes," he croaked.

"Yes, _who?"_ Lalnable prompted, pricking him shallowly with the needle. Rythian flinched. His lip curled.

"Fuck you," he said, although his voice was thin and shaking.

"He's so _rude,_ Boss," Five said, scoffing. "We've _got_ to teach him some manners."

"Soon, Five, soon. It's worth _trying_ the honey before the vinegar, hahah."

He pricked Rythian again, a millimeter deeper. Again, Rythian flinched. An involuntary whimper escaped his throat.

"Come on, Rythian," Lalnable said. "Ask nicely."

"Go to hell," said Rythian.

Lalnable pushed the needle in deep, slowly, excruciatingly. Rythian swallowed down his voice, banging his head against the table to keep from thrashing.

And Lalnable pulled the needle out, slowly, excruciatingly, until just the tip was under Rythian's skin. And back in, just as slow, dragging against the blood-slick edges. And back out, and back in, until Rythian couldn't swallow his screams anymore. Lalnable stroked his hair, murmuring to him as the needle kept up its dreadful work.

"Just." _In._ "Say." _Out._ "My." _In._ "Name." _Out._

All Rythian managed was inarticulate screams and gasps, pathetic, pleading.

"God, Boss, whatever you're doing to him, don't stop," Five said, breathless. "You're giving me ideas."

The needle slid in, slower than ever, and came to rest deep inside him.

"Good," said Lalnable. "I like it when you have ideas."

The needle slid out, dragging skin and blood.

"Please," Rythian burbled, weeping. "Please, no more, please— _please—"_

"Say my name," said Lalnable. The needle finally pulled all the way out, leaving Rythian shivering and sick, bleeding. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to catch his breath over the lingering pain. He was going to throw up, any second now. What he wouldn't give for just a few more seconds of respite, what he wouldn't give to be _done,_ to make it _stop._ Just one word, one word and and it'd be over, it would all be over. . . .

Except it wouldn't, really.

"No," he said.

Lalnable sighed, and Rythian braced himself. Instead of the needle, however, a warm thumb brushed his abdomen, smearing liquid over his skin. He risked opening his eyes and saw Lalnable raising a hand to his mouth, saw him suckle the blood from his thumb like it was a delicacy. Rythian shut his eyes again.

"What're you gonna do, Boss?" Five asked.

There was a pause, and then a rattling sound, like an office chair being rolled back.

"I think I'll give him some time to think it over," Lalnable said. "Besides, we've got business to attend to, you and I. I'd hate to waste all those lovely ideas of yours."

"But _Boss,"_ Five whined. "It was just getting good!"

"I'm saving some for later," said Lalnable.

"I don't want later, I want _now,"_ said Five. "You can't get him all good and fucked up and then just _stop."_

"It's called _edging,_ actually."

"What?"

"Never mind." He sighed. "If it's what you want, then it's what we'll do. I just don't want to _break_ him yet, Five. I'm thinking of the long-term."

"You won't break him," Five said offhandedly. "Just give him the shot and see what happens. I bet it'll be spectacular."

"We can always hope. Here, just for you."

Rythian had just opened his mouth to beg _no, please, don't,_ when the needle struck directly into the same bloody hole, and all that came out of him was another scream. Lalnable pushed the plunger down and his belly filled with cold, thick pain, knotted. The needle withdrew, and Rythian could feel the puncture already knitting itself back together.

"Thanks, Boss," Five said warmly. "That was _just_ what I wanted."

Rythian's insides were tingling and tickling, like his guts were swarming with ants. That knotted, tight sensation in his abdomen was getting worse, not better, and exhaustion was overtaking him rapidly. Lalnable's hand was resting on his stomach. He couldn't stop himself from squirming, trying _anything_ to make it stop, because this was _worse_ than pain, he could handle pain, it was—

A blinding bolt of agony flashed through his body, lightning-quick, blistering. It jerked his limbs like puppet-strings, slammed him up against his restraints. He gasped, seeing spots, stunned and dizzy.

Lalnable yelped like he'd been bitten, yanking his hand back, and then laughed, laughed _just_ the way Lalna did. He spoke, but the words were indistinct through the ringing in Rythian's ears. His hands came to rest on Rythian's stomach, hot, huge. Five's hands touched just across from them, small, cold.

"I don't feel anything, Boss," Five said, pouting.

"It should happen again, give it a—"

Another flash of agony went off, like a grenade in his stomach, and then another, and _another,_ again and again and again, rapid-fire, jerking his body wildly, riddling him with white-hot pain, cracking his teeth with the force of his clenched jaw. He couldn't even scream, couldn't draw the breath for it.

Finally, finally, the storm subsided, leaving him gasping, drenched in sweat. His skin was tingling all over. He was burning up. His ears were ringing relentlessly. The ants had gotten into his lungs and were crawling all over. Through smeared eyes, he watched a long blue spark wander up between Lalnable's arms. Thought returned slowly, trickling like cold spring water through his head.

He'd changed his mind. He couldn't handle it. _Nothing_ was worse than pain.

"Wow, Boss," Five said, enraptured, laughing. "Wow."

"Spectacular," said Lalnable.

"What was that other stuff, you had planned?"

"I'll show you. It's in the master bedroom."

Five giggled. Her fingers slid across Rythian's abdomen to take Lalnable's hands. He led her away, his murmuring punctuated by her giggles. There were footsteps on metal stairs. There was a soft _click._ There was quiet.

Rythian held himself together for two whole minutes before he broke down sobbing.

* * *

 

He wasn't sure how long he was alone. He knew it was long enough for the last of the anesthesia to wear off, leaving him sore and aching and exhausted. He knew he was starving. He'd drifted off to sleep once or twice, though never for very long, or very deeply.

When he was visited, it was just by Five. She made idle chit-chat and force-fed him some kind of orange gruel until he almost threw up. It must have been drugged, because things very quickly got blurry and soft. He got the vague idea that he'd been freed, that he'd been led around by the hand like a child, allowed to use the bathroom and wash his face, to stretch thoroughly just like Fox had taught him. There had been white cream smeared on his wrists, his ankles, his neck. He got the vague and sickening idea that he'd afterwards laid right back down on his gurney, utterly obedient, and let her restrain him again.

He slept, very deeply, and perhaps for a very long time.

When he woke again, he was alone. His mouth was fuzzy and bitter, his eyes clouded. His head hurt. He spent some time trying to wriggle out of his restraints and only managed to re-blister his wrists and make his thumb joints very sore. He did his best to blink the gunk from his eyes and took stock of the room, in case there was anything useful in it.

It was some sort of laboratory, brightly lit, windowless. There were black sheets of what was probably rubber on the floor, which would explain how Five and Lalnable were able to touch him without electrocuting themselves. There were lab benches, covered with neatly organized chemicals. Four refrigerators were lined up against one wall. There were cabinets, scientific instruments, roll-carts covered with more chemicals and tools. There was another refrigerator-like machine, with a single green glass door and a lot of knobs and lights on it. Vaguely, Rythian could make out the shapes of jars inside. Everything was labeled with large, high-contrast lettering, in handwriting so neat it might have been printed.

There was nothing within two meters of him.

His next plan was to tip over the table he was strapped to, and he spent nearly twenty minutes trying to get it to rock or even wiggle. It must have been either bolted to the floor or weighed down with stone, because no matter how he tried, it wouldn't budge. All he got was sweat, blisters, and strained muscles for his trouble.

He tried teleporting again. Again, the restraints slammed him back into the table. He took some time peering down at the straps on his wrists, trying to work out if the silver could be wriggled out of, even if the canvas couldn't. It took some finagling and fidgeting, but eventually he could make out the glimmer of metallic threads woven through the canvas.

No such luck.

Rythian had taken to singing to himself by the time Lalnable and Five returned again, just to keep the silence off. He swallowed his voice the moment he heard the door click.

"Aw, no, don't stop on _our_ account," Five said. "You've got such a lovely voice."

"Tone-deaf," Lalnable pointed out. Five giggled, the rising trill with the squeak on the end. The sound of it made Rythian grind his teeth. It was like nails on a chalkboard.

He had resolved not to talk this time around. Maybe it would make things less _fun_ for them.

 _"Boss,_ now you've embarrassed him," said Five. "He's already shy."

There was the sound of a kiss. "Not to worry," said Lalnable. "We'll have him singing again by the end."

This time Five's laugh was more of a cackle than a giggle. The stairs clanged as she and Lalnable descended. Five came into his view first, moving to a lab bench with one hand half-outstretched. She subsequently hopped up onto the bench and leaned back on her hands. Lalnable meandered in on Rythian's other side, folding his arms and watching Five with a certain amount of amusement.

"Aren't you going to ask what we want?" Five inquired sweetly, her head tipped towards Rythian.

He said nothing, fuming.

"Ooh, the silent treatment," said Five. She grinned. _"Very_ mature."

"Fuck you," said Rythian.

Five giggled. She started kicking her feet, head tipped back languorously.

"Is that an invitation?" she asked. "Because if it is, let's get to it."

"Fuck you _with a cactus,"_ Rythian snarled, yanking hard on his restraints. Five made a face.

"Now _that_ wouldn't be much fun," she said.

"You mustn't tease the poor thing, Five," said Lalnable, laughing. "It's not his fault he's stupid."

"Should we show him how it's done, Boss?" Five asked. She stopped kicking her feet and spread her knees apart.

Lalnable grinned. He crossed to Five and took her hand, kissed her knuckles.

"I think he might need the example," he said.

Five giggled. Her tongue slipped out and moistened her lips, traced the base of her top teeth.

"He's going to watch, isn't he?" she said, breathless with lust. "He'll see everything."

"Oh yes," said Lalnable. He kissed up her arm to her neck. His hands rested on her sides, trailed down to her hips, her thighs. Five ran her fingers back through Lalnable's hair. He bit her neck and she moaned, her head tipping back, eyelids fluttering. The sight of it was perverse, almost incestuous. Rythian looked away, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down revulsion.

He couldn't plug his ears, though, couldn't block out the smell of blood and acid and sex. Every second made him sicker, every moan and gasp and rattle of labware, until his skin was crawling with revulsion and his bones were hot with shame and his guts were in knots. He bit his tongue until he tasted blood.

It was about when Five started saying _Rythian's_ name, breathing it and moaning it and then _screaming_ it, that he finally broke.

 _"Shut up!"_ he snarled, his voice cracking, tears welling in his eyes. "Shut up, shut up, _shut up!"_

"Oh, _Rythian,"_ Five purred. "Still not learned your lesson. Teach him, boss. Go teach him."

"Five," said Lalnable, halfway to an objection.

 _"Do it,"_ she snarled. She tacked on a little giggle, softening the rebuke. "Don't worry about _me,_ Boss. I want to hear what you do to him."

"Anything for you, Five," said Lalnable.

Fear overwhelmed disgust, and Rythian couldn't help but look.

Lalnable was on his knees on the floor, hands wrapped around Five's calves. There were bloody ruts in his neck and scalp and shoulders and chest. His lips were dripping blood, burned half into oblivion by the slime slicking every inch of Five's naked body. A metallic gleam shone through the blood at the tip of his chin. Rythian was choking down vomit, so disgusted he could scarcely breathe.

"Make him scream," Five ordered, fervent and wild. "Make him scream _for me,_ Boss."

Lalnable's lips split open in a red-toothed grin. He got to his feet. The lacerations were already healing, knitting themselves closed before they'd even started scabbing over. His eyes fixed on Rythian.

"It would be my pleasure," he said.

Five laughed, her hand trailing up her own thigh.

"I'm so glad you never get tired, Boss," she said.

Lalnable picked up a hammer without turning his head. The grin was wild, mad, _hungry._

"Never," he said.

Rythian whimpered.


	18. Chapter 17

The sound of Rythian's screaming cut to silence for the third time.

"Again," Nilesy said. His fists were clenched so tight that his fingers had gone numb. His shoulders were a mass of tension, tugging painfully on the cuts and fresh stitches in his back. The hickeys and burns and sorenesses from Vee's revelry the night before were sinking all the way to his bones, sapping the energy out of him. It was too much to bear, but he had no other choice than to bear it. There were things that needed doing.

"Fuck's sake, _enough,"_ Panda mumbled, head in his hands.

"Play it again," Nilesy insisted.

"I dunno what you think you're going to _get_ from it," Fox said. Xe and Trell were huddled up in a far corner of the main room, separate from everyone else.

"I'll know when I see it," he said. "Lalna, please play the video again."

"For God's sake, at least take it somewhere else," Nano said. "I can't listen to that—that _thing,_ with my voice again. I'll throw up."

"Specimen Five," Trell said. "Only it's—well, it's got bigger, since last I saw it."

"Oh, _saw_ it, did you?" Nano snapped.

"I've told you a dozen times, I couldn't tell anyone about it," Trell said, bristling. "Strife had my arm twisted behind my back."

"Wouldn't use that excuse, darling," Vee murmured through Nilesy's lips, a trickle of cold water under the heat of his skin. "We know _all about_ people who're cooperative under duress, ahahah."

Nilesy let it pass without comment. It was what he'd wanted to say, just distilled, fearless.

"You're doing the voice," Lomadia said quietly.

Nilesy bowed his head and rubbed his face. Something warm and sticky smeared across his cheeks. He looked down to see blood oozing from four half-moon crescents in each palm. He swallowed, pressed the knuckles of his thumbs to his eyes.

"Mute it and play it again," he said.

"I could just put it on _your_ computer," Lalna pointed out. "Then you could play it yourself, instead of me broadcasting it to the TV over and over."

"Sib," Nilesy said, "literally the first message out of the gate is _you shouldn't have downloaded this._ If they're savvy enough to have hacked _you,_ they'll have put in something nasty for the rest of us, too. _They,_ plural."

"There's more than one?" Lomadia asked.

Nilesy let out a slow breath. He was still pressing his thumbs to his eyes, watching the slow fireworks burst and drift in the darkness.

"Someone's running the camera," he said. "That twitch, when she goes for the jar. That's someone who can't hold their hands steady. That's someone who's watching _her_ and not the camera."

"So fucking what?" Panda said. "None of this is _helping._ None of this is getting us any closer to finding Rythian. Why're we wasting _time?_ Let's just go to the stupid fucking lab and kill everybody in the way."

"You'd think by now you would've figured out that _murder_ isn't a good solution!" Nano said sharply. "God forbid any of _us_ should stumble into _the way._ Wait, except _that's already happened!"_

"Oh, right, thanks _so fucking much_ for bringing that up, I'd totally forgotten! That's _super_ helpful, Nano!"

"Stop," Lomadia said, standing up, her wings flaring out to fill the room. "Both of you stop."

"I'm not having him dumping us into another fucking bloodbath!" Nano said.

"Nano," Lomadia warned, glaring. "That's _enough."_

"Thank—"

She whipped her head around to glare at Panda. He shriveled. Lomadia shook out her wings and folded them against her back.

"There's no rush," Nilesy said. "Because either Rythian's already dead, or they still need him for something."

 _Or he's there of his own free will,_ Vee supplied helpfully. _You know how he likes to do._

"Fuck _off,_ Niles," Panda snapped, his voice cracking. "Fuck off, don't _say_ shit like that!"

"He's right," Lalna said.

"You can fuck off too! We _know_ where they are, we _know_ they've got Rythian with them, what the fuck are we sitting about for?"

Nilesy's composure snapped. He leapt to his feet, rounding on Panda. Pain shot through him, but he couldn't be bothered to care.

"We _know_ this trick, Panda!" he snarled, gesturing violently at the TV screen. "We've _pulled_ this fucking trick! _Anybody_ who goes there _is going to fucking die!"_

"If we _don't_ go, _Rythian's_ going to fucking die!"

 _Give me the reins, darling,_ Vee murmured to him. _I'll make them listen._

"Shut up!" Nilesy snapped.

"Don't you fucking tell me to shut up!" Panda said, offended.

"I wasn't—" He broke off, pressing his hands to his face, trying to breathe. He was shaking.

 _Just take a break,_ Vee said. _I've got this one. As a favor. Don't worry, darling, just let me handle it._

"I'm sorry," Nilesy said carefully. He could feel Fox's eyes on him, and Trell's, alien and prickling.

They didn't know. There was no reason they should ever know. He could _keep them_ from knowing.

"Okay," Fox said. "It's been less than an hour since Lalna—er, downloaded? The footage?"

"Yeah," said Lalna. "They told you I'm a robot, right?"

"They—yeah," said Fox, clearly uncomfortable. "But look, right, if it's that big of an issue, Trell can just pop back and tell you _not_ to download it."

"Thank you, ever so much, for volunteering me for that," Trell said snidely.

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Lalna. "Then we'd have nothing to go on."

"And you'd have two hours back," Nano muttered.

"I don't need them," Lalna said, shrugging.

 _Just repeat after me, then,_ Vee said. _It's all in good faith, darling. I know I ran you too hard, and I'm awfully sorry about it. Let me handle this._

"We'd have everything we've got now," Fox said. "He can just tell you what was in it. _He'll_ remember, even if none of you will've seen it."

"I think I've done _more_ than enough for one day," Trell said.

"Oh, like you've never skipped back twice in a day before," Fox said. "You're fine, don't be such a little bitch."

"I really don't think it's necessary," said Lalna. "We should just go from where we are."

"And where we should go _to_ is the _fucking lab,"_ Panda insisted.

Nilesy shut his eyes, pressing on the bridge of his nose.

 _Fine,_ he said to Vee.

He was yanked backward so forcefully that he lost himself for a second. Vee stepped into his place, a little taller, a little broader, a little too big for his skin. He drew himself up out of Nilesy's tense slouch and spread his hands.

"Panda darling," he said sweetly. "What exactly are you planning on doing once you get there?"

"Don't you use that voice on me," Panda warned, leveling a threatening finger at him.

"It's just a simple question," said Vee. "If you're going to go dashing in headlong, you can't expect anybody to back you up if you haven't got a plan."

"I'm going to kick in the fucking door and kill everybody who isn't Rythian," Panda retorted.

"Grand," said Vee. "How?"

"What—what the fuck d'you mean, _how?"_

"Well, just idle curiosity, honestly," said Vee, grinning. "Seeing as you haven't so much as touched a knife since you stabbed Zylus in the chest a dozen times. I s'pose we could go dig up that one you tossed in his grave, just for the sentimental value."

"Too far," Nano butted in.

"You started it," said Vee, laughing. "Lalna, as our master tactician, what _should_ our plan be?"

"I haven't got enough information to make one," said Lalna. "The lab is heavily fortified, and it's unclear whether Specimen Five has got Lalnable or not. Or if she's got him, whether she's got him functioning or not. There's also no reason to think that Rythian's being kept at the lab. I don't think Specimen Five would ask me to come directly to her base of operations. I'm sure it's a setup. If she's got enough technical expertise to hack my systems, she can probably lock down the lab remotely. It's definitely a trap, I'm just not sure what sort."

"There, you see?" Vee said, turning back to Panda. "Listen to the master tactician, darling."

"But we've _got_ to find Rythian somehow!" Panda said, his voice thick with tears. "They're _hurting_ him, we've got to—"

"Are they?" Vee interrupted.

"What—of course they are, you _heard!_ They took one of his organs out, for fuck's sake!"

 _"Did_ they?" Vee said impertinently. "Who here knows what a voltaic node is supposed to look like? Go on, show of hands."

There was some awkward shuffling.

"Right! And we _all_ know Rythian's got a nasty little habit of turning his colors when it's convenient."

"That is _not_ true," Panda snarled.

"That was _one time,"_ Nano said, at exactly the same moment.

"It was twice," Vee said, arching a brow, "and both times, it was for people who had already tried to kill him. The man's a lemming, darlings, he can't help but throw himself off every cliff he sees."

"It's very unlikely that Rythian wasn't taken against his will," Lalna said. "The signs of a struggle were obvious."

"Taken by who?" Vee inquired. "Little blind Specimen Five? I doubt it."

 _That's enough,_ Nilesy said, pulling on Vee's sleeve. Vee shrugged him off.

"It was an _awfully_ obvious struggle, wasn't it?" he went on. "All the proper signs. Damaged property. Scuff marks. Blood. Even left the mask sitting out nice and pretty for us to get all bent out of shape about."

 _Stop,_ Nilesy insisted. Vee swelled, pressing him further back, blurring his vision and stopping up his ears like deep water.

"What are you saying?" Lomadia asked, hurt and confused and muffled.

Vee spread his hands. "I'm saying that maybe darling Rythian has run off and conspired to kill Lalna again. There's precedent, after all."

"Shut up," Panda snapped, his voice coming through layers and layers of cotton. "Just—stop fucking talking! Shut up and go away!"

"It does make you wonder, doesn't it," Vee purred. "Whether he's got round to fucking his _new_ owners yet?"

Something _happened._

There was a kick in Nilesy's back, a sense of vicious dislocation. He heard something like a yelp, like the slamming of a door. He found himself back in his own body, which was shrinking down around him, stretched out by Vee's presence. His ears were ringing. There was chatter going on, Panda's voice and Nano's and Lomadia's, but he was too dizzy and disoriented to catch it. Slowly, he lowered himself back into his chair.

Everything hurt. He was so _tired._ He just wanted to rest.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Sorry. I didn't . . . I didn't mean that."

Taking responsibility for Vee's transgressions left a bitter taste on his tongue, but it was easy. Easier by far than trying to explain the whole mess to Fox and Trell. He could feel their eyes on him, still, making his face prickle. He rubbed at it, but the feeling didn't go away. He glanced at the pair of them and caught Trell watching, his eyes like a pair of amethysts set in opal and black gold. Nilesy looked away again very quickly.

"Look," Nano said. "Everyone's strung out, and scared, and angry."

"I'm not," Lalna volunteered.

"I—fine, okay, _whatever._ The point is, we've got to figure out what we're going to _do."_

"At this point, it's probably best to just wait," said Lalna. "If they're really desperate to get at us, they'll send something else. We can get more information and then we can come up with a real plan."

"Wait for how long?" Panda demanded. "Until they start sending us bits of Rythian in the mail?"

"That'd work," said Lalna. "Depending on the size of the bits, I could track the package back through the post and find where they sent it from."

"You—that—what the fuck is _wrong_ with you?"

"I've turned off most of my emotions," Lalna said. "It helps to make me less impulsive and saves energy. I could try and work out a way for you to do it, too. I think you need it."

"Fuck you," said Panda, and got up and stormed out of the room.

"Someone had better go after him," Nilesy sighed. "Otherwise he'll end up at that lab."

"Okay," said Lomadia. She got up and went after Panda, wings trailing behind her like a cloak. A measure of silence came in her wake.

"So we're just . . . doing nothing, then," Fox said. "That's the plan. Doing absolutely nothing."

"I . . . guess it is," said Nano. "Though I could think of a few things that need doing in the mean time. _Mostly_ having to do with kicking Strife's lying teeth in."

"Please don't," Trell said, wincing. "He will really, truly, honest-to-God shoot you dead."

"The hell he will," said Nano. "I'll bring Nilesy with me and pin the fucker to the window."

Nilesy lowered his face into his hands, swallowing. Just the thought of being in the same room as Strife made him so sick it was all he could do not to vomit. His skin crawled. The bruises and burns and hickeys ached. He was just so _tired. . . ._

"Fuck yeah," said Fox. "Can I come? I've been waiting _ages_ to see that rich bitch get his arse handed to him."

"Listen, _trust me,_ it's no good," said Trell. "Besides, Nilesy looks like _he'd_ rather not."

The relief and gratitude that flooded through him nearly made him sob. He could feel everyone in the room looking at him. Nano sighed.

"Strife Solutions is the place to go, though," said Lalna. "If Specimen Five was kept there for observation and experimentation, they've probably got loads of data on her. Ordinarily I'd just hack in and download everything, but the chances that the files have been tampered with to mess me up are like, super high. I'm not falling for that one again."

"I'm pretty high up in Security, and Trell's got the keys to everything," said Fox. "If we tag along, nobody'll stop us."

"I s'pose I've got to go, haven't I," Nano sighed. "It being my weird mutant . . . growth."

"You being good with computers," said Lalna. "You've got a PhD in it."

"That'd help," said Fox.

"I'm going to stay here and work on _my_ problem," Lalna said. "I'll probably do it in sleep mode to save power. I'm also going to work out how to fix the priority override, although I'll probably need you to actually implement it, Nano."

"I can stay and keep an eye out," Nilesy mumbled. "Make sure nobody kills you in your sleep."

"That's unnecessary," said Lalna. "If they'd wanted me dead, they would've killed me instead of leaving me a video. But you can stand guard anyway, if it makes you feel better."

Nilesy let out a long sigh and heaved himself to his feet.

"That case," he said, "I'm going to bed."

* * *

 

Nilesy woke up at some point in the night. It was dark, and the flat was quiet. Nothing seemed amiss, but he crept out to check on Lalna anyway. They'd left their door unlocked, and he poked his head in just to make sure they were still there. To his relief, they were sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, their chest rising and falling with slow synthetic breath. Nilesy slipped back out without disturbing them.

He headed back to his own room, but paused in front of Panda's door. The lights were on inside, but he checked anyway. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his Powers, just as gently as he could. It took almost no effort to feel the Panda-sized mass of mostly-water, sitting up near the window. If he listened closely, he could hear tinny music, blasted much too loud through headphones. Satisfied, he returned to his room, shutting the door softly behind him.

A wave of dizziness swept over him, and he had to shut his eyes. Pain bloomed in his forehead, at first dull and then sharpening. A roaring filled his ears. He stayed still, unbalanced, waiting for it to pass. After a moment, the pain faded to a dull ache, echoed by a throbbing in his knees. He rubbed at his face, nauseous. The roaring in his ears did not subside.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself kneeling in front of a bathtub. The roar was the sound of water pouring into it. He froze up, his heart in his throat, his breath stalled out in his lungs.

"Two hours."

Nilesy nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped around, but there was nothing but a blank white wall behind him. With a slow and sinking horror, he realized it was his own mouth that had spoken the words. He lurched to his feet and stumbled out of the bathroom.

He was in a hotel room, beige walls and dark carpet. Most of the lights were off. Vee was sitting on the bed, the empty mask floating above the hollow suit. He grinned at Nilesy.

"That's how much time you've lost," he said. "Two hours. Liam let me watch."

Nilesy glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was around one in the morning. That made Vee's claim at least reasonable, if not necessarily true.

"Where are we?" Nilesy demanded. He couldn't keep his voice from shaking, his fists from clenching.

"Oh, you'll figure it out come morning," said Vee, waving a dismissive hand. "I wouldn't worry too much. He didn't want anyone else coming over. It's just the three of us."

"We've got to go back," said Nilesy. "We shouldn't—we shouldn't be here, alone, it's not safe."

"You're _not_ alone, darling," Vee purred. "None of us ever get to be alone."

"You _know_ what the fuck I meant," Nilesy retorted.

"Go stick your head in the tub, darling," Vee said. "I know you could use it. You've had a very _very_ long day."

"It's your fault if I have."

 _"My_ fault? Ahahah, darling. I've been _exceptionally_ good these past few months, haven't I? Not murdered a soul."

Vee got up. His movements were deliberate, predatory. The smile was wide, showing too many teeth, more teeth than anyone ought to have. Nilesy's voice fell down inside him and he couldn't pull it back up.

"Are you saying you'd rather go back to drowning innocent people," Vee went on, advancing slowly, "over and over and _over,_ until their fucking lungs turn inside out?"

The walls were going white around him. Blood was seeping out of his gloves, soaking through the white of his shirt. Nilesy's ears were ringing.

"Watching them _writhe_ on the fucking floor at your feet, helpless, _begging_ for you to make it stop—oh, but we never made it stop, did we, darling. Over, and over, and over. Remember what we did to Rythian? Remember how he _struggled?"_

 _Stop,_ he wanted to say, but he couldn't. He backed away a step. Vee was still approaching. His shoes left blood-red footprints on the white tile floor.

"Remember how I'd come home and fuck your boyfriend? Or your girlfriend. Or _both,_ weren't those the days! Remember how they thought it was _you?_ You only better, you only a hell of a lot more fun. That was just the cherry on top, darling. I never told you what I did to the bodies. Liam put you away for that, but I could tell you. I could give you a fucking _demonstration,_ darling."

Nilesy couldn't breathe. His knees gave out. Vee strolled over to him, hands in his pockets. A diamond gleam flashed behind the empty sockets of the mask.

"So what you're telling me is, you'd rather gruesomely, horrifically, viciously murder _scores_ of innocent people, than sleep with William Strife?" Vee asked. He knelt in front of to Nilesy, took his chin in his hand. The leather glove was cold, freezing cold against his skin. "Because darling, if that's what you want, I'd be absolutely _delighted_ to oblige."

Somehow, he found air to breathe. Somehow, he caught just enough of his voice to form a single word. On his hands and knees, he looked up into the empty sockets of the mask, _willing_ himself to see a face behind it, willing it to _be._

"Neither," Nilesy croaked.

Vee grinned at him. "Not an option!" he sang. "I've sacrificed so much already, just for you. D'you know how _hard_ it is, to settle for Strife? D'you know how _secondhand_ all that bruising and battering and fucking is? The least you could do is show a bit of gratitude. It's called compromise, darling."

"It's _abuse,"_ Nilesy said. Vee burst out laughing.

"Oh, darling, _darling_ Nilesy," he said. "Listen to you. How can somebody abuse _himself?_ That's insulting to the _real_ victims, how dare you?"

"You're not me," he said.

"I _will be,"_ Vee murmured. "And when I am, when we're all back together, that itch isn't going to go away. And d'you know, Liam's going to scratch it. I'm building good habits for him, darling. You've got to give the poor thing a framework, otherwise, ahah. Otherwise there's no _telling_ what the little monster will get up to."

"Don't talk about him like that," Nilesy snapped.

"Why not?" Vee asked. _"You_ do." The cold black glove slid back along his jaw, wrapped around his throat. "I do get so _tired_ of hearing you talk, darling. Why don't you be a dear and go drown yourself, hm? Clear all those nasty little thoughts out of your head."

"Let go of me," Nilesy said. He couldn't move. He was trembling.

Vee leaned in. Something wet and cold and rough as sandpaper trailed up Nilesy's cheek. The hand tightened around his throat. Heat wicked up his spine, pooled in his stomach.

 _"Jusht like that,"_ Vee breathed.

The heat went thermonuclear, and Nilesy went off like a steam explosion.

One hand caught Vee by the tie, yanked it tight around nothing, because there was nothing inside. Nilesy hauled him upright, dragged him to the bathroom, plunged him into the tub. Vee kicked at him. Blood-soled shoes left red streaks on his jeans. The gloves clawed at his arms. Nilesy held him under, one handed, then two. He was silent in his fury. His skin burned. His insides were frigid. There was blood under his fingernails. Vee thrashed, bruising. Water splashed all over the floor. He was soaking wet. His fingers were numb, his hands stinging with cold. The scabs on his back were pulled tight and pinching. The stitches were threatening to tear out. The bruises ached. He could feel lips and teeth and tongue against his neck, hands on his skin. He slammed Vee's head against the bottom of the tub. The water clouded with blood.

The struggling wound down, and stopped. Nilesy's ragged breath was loud in his ears. His skin was crawling. He shut his eyes, bowing his head. The shivering started at the back of his neck and poured out through him.

He opened his eyes. The tub was empty, save for his own hands, leaking blood into the water from grazed knuckles. He pressed his palms to the bottom, reassuring himself that it was real. He could see his reflection in the water, just a faint gray sketch, staring back up at him miserably.

For two minutes, there was silence.

Slowly, Nilesy lowered his head beneath the surface.

* * *

 

When he had cleared the cobwebs from his head and the water from his lungs, Nilesy took a long, hot shower. It stung like hell against the burns, and made his bruises ache, and required the removal of all the bandages on his back, but it was necessary. He made a cursory search of the hotel room afterwards, just in case Liam had brought a bag with a change of clothes. He didn't find one, but he did find a short message written on the hotel notepad.

 

_Exit straight out. Left. 4 blocks to station. Take GWR south. Left phone at home, it's not lost. Wallet + keys in drawer next to Bible. Gauze, tape, disinfectant 1 drawer down. Bag w/clothes in closet, wire rack. Checkout 10 a.m._

_—Liam_

 

"Very _courteous_ of you," Nilesy muttered. "Hope you fucking paid in cash."

He found the items just as they'd been described, then spent about an hour doing painful contortions to get the cuts on his back re-bandaged. Those, he was sure, hadn't come from Strife, although he couldn't precisely remember where they _had_ come from. He tried not to panic about it. As far as he could tell, he hadn't lost more than ten minutes after they'd discovered Rythian was missing, and nobody was dead, so it probably didn't matter.

Despite the missing hours, he wasn't particularly hungry. He assumed Liam must have stopped off for food somewhere, although there was very little indication of what it had been. The only lingering taste in his mouth was of bath water.

By the time he was all bandaged and dressed and mostly dry, it was almost four o'clock in the morning. Nilesy set an alarm on the hotel clock for seven, just to make sure he could get back home before nine. It was too much to ask that nobody would have noticed him missing, and he silently cursed Liam for leaving his phone behind. He ought to have gone straight back, to keep anyone from panicking about him come morning, but he was dead tired and any opportunity to actually sleep for once was welcome. By his estimates, his body hadn't slept more than five hours in the last forty, and none of his time awake had been _restful._

Less than a minute after he crawled into bed, he slipped out again. He filled the tub back up, just in case. He returned to bed, scarcely able to keep his eyes open. The prospect of having to wake up in only three hours was depressing, to say the least.

This, he thought, must have been how Panda felt, all those nights when his blood sugars refused to behave.

The drift from consciousness to dream was slow, gradual, the lines blurred. At first he only imagined that the pillow he was snuggling was a warm body, and then, somehow, without changing at all, it was one. Fingers ran through his hair, gentle. Lips pressed to his forehead. A voice, indistinct, murmured comforts to him. There was sunlight.

There was a _bang_ so loud it kicked him out of the dream and clear out of bed. Bright lights shone in his face. He staggered, blinded and dazed.

"Get on the ground!" someone shouted. There were people in the room, wearing black, wearing badges. _"Get on the ground, now!"_

His knees went without asking him for permission. Slowly, carefully, he lay face-down on the floor, keeping his hands visible, always visible. Someone grabbed his wrists and yanked them behind his back, securing them too tightly with metal cuffs.

Officers. Police. They yanked him upright, back onto his knees. The old charm bubbled through his teeth, automatic, unstoppable.

"Ahah, listen, I'm sure you fellows get this all the time, but honestly, I think there's been some sort of mistake," Nilesy said. His heart was thundering in his ears.

 _Kill them,_ Vee hissed. _Go on, darling. I know you've got it in you. Kill them. Paint the fucking walls with their blood._

The policemen paid him no mind. There was one stood in front of him, frowning at the screen of a phone or something. They glanced between it and Nilesy several times, their expression growing grimmer with each flick of their eyes.

"That's him, all right," they said.

Nilesy's stomach dropped. He could feel the world falling out from under him.

"What?" he said stupidly.

"Well, well," said another, not in uniform, eyes agleam. "Looks like we've just hooked the Fisherman."

Everything went into slow motion. The rush of blood through the officers' veins. The drip of water from the faucet. The creak of the door. Nilesy's fingers twitched. The water in the bathtub shivered. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, tickling.

He wrenched his arms loose. He kicked out at the officer behind him. A flood of water swept the non-uniformed one off their feet. He scrambled to get upright. The door was standing open.

Two arrows struck him in the back. His whole body locked up rigid with pain. He fell. He couldn't breathe. His vision blurred out and whitened. He could taste pills.

After an eternity, the pain stopped. He managed to gasp in a breath, twitching, writhing. There were footsteps, voices. He tried to lift his head.

Agony shot through him again. He would have screamed, but he didn't have the air. The cuffs were digging into his wrists. His head was swollen enough to burst. When it stopped, he went limp, scattered, wracked with residual pain. Something stuck him in the shoulder and he couldn't even try to pull away. He was heaved up by his arms, dragged. Distantly, he could feel the scabs and stitches tugging at the skin of his back, the bruises throbbing. He couldn't focus his eyes well enough to see where he was going. He was thrown onto hard plastic seats. His heartbeat was slow and faint and sluggish in his ears.

There was a sound of slamming doors. There was movement. He couldn't sit up. His body wouldn't listen to him. He was faltering, sinking into his own head, unable to stay afloat any longer.

He dropped beneath the cold gray surface and knew no more.


	19. Chapter 18

Nano only barely restrained herself from kicking in Strife's door. He glanced up at her as she stormed in, unconcerned.

"You been taking courtesy lessons from Speedy Gonzales?" he inquired.

"Don't you get fucking _cute_ with me," she snarled, boiling over already. "You _know_ what happened. You _know_ what I'm here for!"

"Sure do," said Strife. "And the answer's _no."_

"No? _No?_ How can you _possibly—_ how can you _justify—"_

"Uh, 'cause he's a serial killer, sweetheart," Strife said. "Everybody knew this was gonna happen sooner or later."

"Which is _exactly_ why you ought to be doing something about it!" she snapped. "You've got fucking lawyers, _use them!"_

"No," Strife said again.

"I swear to God, I will fucking _ruin—"_

"Yuh-huh, you'll tell everybody about all my illegal goings-on and what have you, send your robot to wreck my shit, except here's the _thing,_ Doc." He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. His eyes bored into her head, applying the brakes to her rage. "There's nothing you can do to me that's worse than what'll happen if I do what you're asking."

She stared, unbalanced, taken off guard. Strife kept talking.

"Now don't get me wrong, Doc, I _like_ the kid," he said. "I like him a helluva lot and I'm real busted up that he got himself arrested. But lemme paint you a picture, hey? I send my best damn lawyer to get him outta this mess. Maybe they manage it. Maybe he gets out scot-free, _despite_ the fact that he brutally murdered damn near twenty people. It doesn't matter. See, what happens is, people look at that lawyer and they go, _Well hang on a sec, that's Will Strife's lawyer, paid with Will Strife's money._ What's William goddamn Strife's lawyer doing defending this nobody freak from Scotland? And hey, while we're thinkin' about it, wasn't it William goddamn Strife who handed over that phony death certificate for _that kid?_ Didn't he hand over a bunch of _other_ death certificates, too? Huh, now I wonder, are _all_ those death certs phony? Maybe we'd better check. And while we're at it, maybe we'd better see why William goddamn Strife is putting all this time and money into clearing the name of a _goddamn serial killer."_

He spread his hands, a cold smile quirking up the corner of his mouth.

"I send somebody to help him, and I go down. And you go down. And all your _buddies_ go down. YogLabs goes down, because you bet your perky little ass they _will_ figure out who murdered the last Admin Board and took their place. I _like_ the kid, Doc, but I am not gonna burn the whole goddamn _neighborhood_ down tryin' to pull his ass outta the fire."

Nano swallowed. She tried to blink the tears out of her eyes, but they wouldn't go. She was shaking.

"So that's it," she said, choked up. "You just . . . let him burn."

"Yep," said Strife, utterly unrepentant. "And if you're smart, you'll let him burn, too. Hey, look at it this way: he really did kill all those people. It's _justice!_ Ain't that nice?"

"You lying, slimy, filthy little _worm,"_ she uttered, quivering with rage. "After _everything_ you did to him—"

"All consensual," he interrupted.

Nano swept both arms across his desk and dashed everything on it to the floor. Strife sat back, raising an eyebrow.

"You _used him!"_ she snarled. "You used him, you used _all of us—"_

"What a big damn surprise!" Strife exclaimed, laughing. Nano lunged across his desk and caught him by his tie. The fabric hissed and smoked under her hand.

"I _know_ what you did," she hissed. "I _know_ you lied to me. I _know_ you kept that—that _thing,_ and now it's got loose—"

"Hah, so Toffee finally spilled the beans, huh?" Strife said, grinning. "I was wondering when that was gonna happen. Do me a favor and hands off the tie, hey? It's real silk."

Nano yanked on it, hauling him forward. Something cold and very hard pressed into her belly. She froze. Strife held her gaze, absolutely unwavering.

"Now, Dr. Sounds," he said softly. "I'd appreciate it if you'd take your goddamn hands off me."

"What the fuck are you going to do, _shoot me?"_ she demanded.

"Yep," said Strife. He didn't so much as blink.

Slowly, one finger at a time, Nano peeled her hand off of Strife's tie. She stepped back. He kept the gun leveled at her, his elbow resting on his desk. The tie was ruined, but he adjusted it anyway, like all she'd done was tighten it uncomfortably.

"Great, so now, we can talk about this like _adults,"_ he said. That smile was still curling the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I kept your little mutant kid. Yeah, I didn't tell you about it. Yeah, it got loose. But lemme tell you, sweetheart, comin' in here and _threatening_ me ain't gonna get you what you want. Not this time around. So why don't you take a _seat,_ and we'll talk. We'll _talk._ And if you _don't_ wanna talk, then I can just shoot you, hey?"

Nano stood perfectly still, her guts in tangles, her head spinning. Strife's finger curled against the trigger. She lowered herself into the other chair with all the grace and ease of someone trying to crush a handful of steel springs.

"Better," said Strife. "Honestly wasn't expecting that. So here's the deal. I know somebody's comin' after you and yours with a vengeance. First your robot goes supercritical, then Sparks McGee mysteriously vanishes, and now somebody led the long arm of the Law straight to the kid. Now I don't know about you, but I'd say the person _actively trying to kill you all_ is probably more of a threat than me and my slimy, lying, wormy self. So Dr. Sounds, I'm gonna ask you to make a decision, right here, right now. We can talk about how pissed off you are that I kept secrets, or we can talk about how I can help you and the rest of your pals from ending up like Sparks and the kid."

"Use their fucking names," Nano said, gritting her teeth. Her fists were clenched achingly tight.

"Being the guy holding the gun, I'm gonna use whatever I damn well feel like," said Strife, grinning. "Now I wanna point out, you _started_ this little arms-race, sweetheart. I didn't _used_ to keep a gun on me until you people started threatening me at every friggin' turn. You apply enough pressure to anything, eventually it starts pushin' back. _So._ You wanna talk about Acid Lass Junior, or you wanna talk about salvaging whatever friends you got left?"

She ground her teeth. She was burning through her clothes. If she could have murdered him with her mind, she would have done it.

"I have," she said, _"nothing_ to say to you."

"Wellp, then I guess this meeting's over," said Strife. His finger tightened on the trigger. Nano's heart tried to leap out of her mouth and for a moment her brain short-circuited, sheer dumb adrenaline pushing words through her teeth.

"Okay!" she blurted. "Okay, we'll talk!"

Strife's tongue slid out to moisten his lips. His finger relaxed, allowing the trigger to slide forward again. His eyes were gleaming, his whole face rendered disgusting by self-satisfaction.

"Good to hear," he said. "What's your preference?"

Nano took a slow, deep breath. Trell and Fox were, even now, in the process of stealing all the data pertaining to Specimen Five. She didn't need to hear anything from Strife on the matter. She wasn't even supposed to have mentioned it in the first place.

"What's your offer," she said, "and what do you want for it?"

"Now you're learning," Strife said. "So here's my offer. I keep you and all your little buddies out of the spotlight during the trial. Nobody knows you had anything to do with the kid, you don't get harassed or locked up or lynched, and the sacrificial lamb doesn't make his sacrifice in vain. Afterwards, you can keep on using Strife Solutions money and facilities in whatever way you want, provided it doesn't cause any _damage_ to my data or my facilities. I think that's pretty damn generous, hey? What I _want_ is every last scrap of information you can get me about the B714-LE project. I wanna know who's working on it, what it's made of, how much they've got, whether they can synthesize it, and all the data from all the tests they've run since day one. I take care of all your loose ends, and you get me that. Deal?"

"Do I have a choice?" she asked.

"Sure," said Strife. "You can choose to get shot instead."

"You are the single most disgusting, most despicable human being I've ever met," she said. "But I'll take your fucking deal."

"Good girl," said Strife. It took every ounce of willpower Nano had not to launch herself across the table and cave his face in. "Now you head on out, and I mean _all_ the way out. From here on, any of your buddies shows up on this floor without being _invited,_ bad things are gonna happen. I don't wanna hurt any of your folks, but if anything infringes on _my_ personal safety, I got an awful lot of hurt I can apply. So let's keep this little war cold, hey?"

Nano got to her feet. Strife's eyes and the gun both followed her.

"I hope you burn in hell," she said.

Strife chuckled, shaking his head.

"Now you sound like Elly," he said. "Good _bye,_ Dr. Sounds."

She glared at him for five seconds, trying to gauge if he was really going to shoot her, if she could wrest the gun from him, if there was _anything_ she could do to fight back. He held her gaze, patient, unflappable, _smiling._

Nano turned and stalked from the room. She managed not to cry until she was outside.

* * *

 

"I _hate_ it!" Nano cried. "I _hate_ it and I fucking hate _him!"_

Lomadia handed her another plate. She immediately dashed it to bits on the kitchen floor.

"How can he just _sit_ there doing _nothing!"_ she ranted. "I thought he'd _changed!_ I thought he was getting _better!_ But no, _ohhh_ no, it's all _still_ just about fucking _using_ us! Just like it's fucking _always_ been! He pulled a fucking _gun_ on me, Lom!"

"I'll rip his face off," she said.

_"Fuck_ him!"

A bowl met its end on the linoleum. There were tears streaming down Nano's face.

"That's what I fucking get for trusting people," she went on. "That's what I _fucking_ get for _believing_ in people! And now Nilesy's _fucked_ because of it! He was doing so _well,_ Lom, he was so much _better,_ we were so _close!"_

"I know," said Lomadia. "It's not fair."

"That's the fucking _thing,_ though, it _is!_ It's perfectly, absolutely, _totally_ fucking fair. It's _just!_ And I hate it. I hate it! I hate every fucking second of it!"

Lomadia handed her a mug from the cabinet. Nano raised it up to smash it, then hesitated.

"No, Panda likes that one," she said, foisting it back on Lomadia. "Get one of the ugly yellow ones."

"Okay," said Lomadia. She switched out the mugs. Nano flung the ugly yellow one to the floor with such vehemence that bits of shrapnel scored the counters.

"Why'd he have to be fucking serial killer?" she demanded. "Why'd it have to be like this? He could've had anything wrong with him, he could've done _any-fucking-thing else,_ and we wouldn't be in this fucking mess! Any other sort of crazy! Or just—this sort of crazy, but not fucking murdering people! Why the fuck couldn't anybody have just fucking _stopped_ him? Why didn't _you_ fucking stop him?"

"I've told you, I couldn't," Lomadia said, bristling.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I know," Nano said. She sniffled hugely.

Lomadia handed her another ugly yellow mug. Nano took it from her, but just stood there staring at it. Shards of ceramic littered the kitchen floor.

"I just . . . I wish it wasn't like this," Nano said, quietly, helplessly. "I wish he wasn't in this mess. _We_ weren't in this mess. I wish there was something I could do to help him. Or anybody could do to help him. He doesn't deserve this. Or—I don't know, Lom, maybe he does, but . . . but I don't want it to be happening. I can't lose anybody else. Not with Rythian gone and Lal—Lal's going to die in fifteen fucking days, and there's nothing I can do about it, and there's nothing I can do for Rythian, and there's _nothing_ I can do about _any_ of this and it—and I—"

Carefully, Lomadia folded Nano in her arms. Nano leaned into her, sniffling and weeping.

"I should've seen this coming, Lom," she croaked. "I should've _done_ something. I got—I got complacent, is what it is. I got too comfortable. I got too trusting. And now it's all falling apart and it's my fault."

"No it's not," said Lomadia, petting her hair. "You didn't make Lalna overheat. Or kidnap Rythian. Or call the cops on Nilesy. You didn't make Strife be awful, either. You didn't do any of that stuff, so it can't be your fault."

"But—I could have done something to keep it from happening," Nano said.

"I dunno, maybe," said Lomadia, shrugging. "It's too late now. We've just got to do stuff about it now."

"Do _what,_ Lom? What can we _possibly_ do?"

"You can get the bad stuff out of Lalna's head, so they don't get hacked again. If they put Nilesy in prison, we'll just get him back out, and then he can help us find Rythian."

"It's not that _simple,_ sweetheart," Nano said, filled with pain. "It's never that _simple."_

"Okay," said Lomadia. "So then when it gets complicated, you and Lalna and Panda and Nilesy can figure it out, because you're really smart. It'll be all right."

"I just . . . I don't know what we're going to _do,_ Lom," Nano said. "It's been all over the news and his face is _everywhere_ and nobody's ever going to _not_ recognize him, even if we _do_ break him out, I just. . . ."

"Then we'll go somewhere else," said Lomadia. "Or he can use a different face. I don't think he'd mind much. He might like it, having a different face."

Nano just shook her head, too overwhelmed to continue arguing.

"S'pose I'd . . . better clean all this up," she said, gesturing vaguely to the mess on the floor. "Before Fox and Trellimar get back. _If_ Fox and Trellimar get back."

"I can help," Lomadia offered.

"No," Nano sighed. "I think I'd rather do it myself, if that's all right."

Lomadia kissed her hair. "Okay," she said. "It's going to be all right, Nano."

"Yeah," said Nano, although she knew in her heart of hearts that it wasn't true.

She was about halfway through with cleaning up when Fox and Trellimar arrived. Lomadia let them in, after taking a moment or two to confirm their identities. Fox raised an eyebrow at the mess on the kitchen floor, but didn't comment. Instead, xe placed a pair of memory sticks on the counter.

"That's everything we could find," xe said. "It's well encrypted, far as I can tell, but I figured you could get through it."

"I should be able to," Nano said. She glanced at Trellimar. "Um. You were right, by the way. About . . . Strife."

Trellimar rubbed his face, wincing. "You told him?"

"Might've let it slip, yeah," she admitted, chagrined. "He didn't _quite_ shoot me, but . . . it was a close-run thing. Um. Sorry."

He waved her off. "It's been over an hour, there's nothing can be done about it now."

"That's Trell-talk for _I'm really upset with you but I'm just going to repress it,"_ Fox said. Trellimar shot xem a very unfriendly look, but didn't say anything.

"That's fine," Nano sighed. She picked up another shard of ceramic and put it into the paper bag with the others. "I'm pretty upset with me, too."

* * *

 

The trial was a horror show from start to finish.

Nano watched the whole thing on TV, along with three million other people worldwide. It was unbelievably sensationalized. The Fisherman, notorious and gruesome serial killer, had returned to his hometown after a long absence, including an apparent vacation in Las Vegas and a spree slaughter at a bank robbery in Pennsylvania. An anonymous tip had led the police to his hotel room, where they'd found a bathtub full of water and the Fisherman covered in recent wounds. There were images of dead, bloated bodies next to smiling social media photos, grisly before-and-afters. There were friends and family of the victims, furious and in tears. There were cadres of teenage girls, bearing posters of Nilesy's face with flower crowns Photoshopped on, slogans like _**PLENTY OF FISH IN THE SEA**_ and _**What A Catch!**_ There was Nilesy, always in handcuffs, hustled through the crowds and the courtroom by armed guards, keeping his eyes down and his face set in stone. The news outlets mentioned frequently that his Powers were likewise restrained by a high dosage of bupropion.

He was represented by a public defender, likely court-appointed, who spent the entire time looking extremely frazzled. Nano didn't blame her. The case was so high-profile and so open-and-shut that the defense had been given scarcely three days to prepare itself.

The Dissociative Identity Disorder was brought up, right there in front of the whole courtroom and millions of people, the childhood trauma strewn all over the floor. Names weren't mentioned, not _Xephos_ nor _Peculier_ nor even _Fair Isle,_ and Nano wondered who exactly he was trying to protect. He answered the questions he was asked precisely, never giving an ounce more information than was requested. It was astonishing he could speak at all, with so many eyes on his unmasked face, and she was almost proud of him for it. Never once did he show so much as a flicker of expression. Never once did he raise his eyes. Never once did he try to duck responsibility.

At one point the prosecutor somehow managed to get Vee out. That was the moment Nano knew it was all over. She sat on her sofa at home, clutching Lomadia's hand, tears rolling down her face.

_"Did I kill them?"_ Vee purred, watching the prosecutor with gleaming eyes. _"Oh no, darling, you make it sound so passé. I stalked them. I seduced them. I drowned them, first in water and then in their own blood. Half a dozen times each, at least. You should've seen the way they looked at me, darling. You should've seen the way they begged."_

"Why aren't they stopping him?" Lomadia whispered, tearful, trembling. "Why aren't they making him shut up?"

Nano didn't have an answer. All she could do was hold on.

It took three days to present all the evidence, to examine and cross-examine and argue and represent. Nobody tried to say that Nilesy hadn't done it. Even Scott Faure, the therapist he'd been seeing since leaving the psychiatric ward at Callington Road, didn't make any pretense about it. Yes, the victims had been murdered by one of the alters in Mr. MacKay's system, and yes, that alter presented with marked sociopathy and sexual sadism. No, he didn't believe that alter felt a shred of remorse for what it had done, nor did he believe it was capable of ever doing so. But, he believed the system as a whole could and  _did,_ and very deeply. Mr. MacKay could be rehabilitated, _should_ be rehabilitated. No, he wasn't aware that Mr. MacKay had _actually_ killed anyone. Yes, he supposed Mr. MacKay did conceal that fact from him for a period in excess of six months. Yes, well, yes, all three of Mr. MacKay's alters did lie to him about it, with remarkable concordance. No, he didn't believe Mr. MacKay was currently a danger to himself or others.

Yes, there should be justice. Of course there should be justice. But he didn't believe the whole should be punished for a crime of one part. Mr. MacKay was a very sick man. He did not belong in prison.

Cable news was full of accusations and speculation. He's not really mentally ill, said some, he's fishing (hah hah) for an insanity plea. Others claimed it was only natural for a mutant to turn to murder. He ought to be summarily executed. Even online, amongst the smaller outlets, there was scarcely a morsel of compassion. The Powered community was outraged at the bad press it was bringing, the implications for all the _good_ Powered people who _weren't_ serial killers. The DID community was _livid,_ especially those who were convinced that Nilesy was faking it. It seemed that only the screaming teenagers, the _he did nothing wrong-_ ers, the serial killer fandom—only they could find it in themselves to pity him, and even so, it was a fetishized, twisted, dehumanizing sort of thing. In most cases it was closer to rabid lust than actual compassion.

Nano started to wonder if anyone _should_ feel compassion for him. Having seen what he'd done, in such grisly detail, she couldn't help but question if the man she'd known had been nothing more than another mask all along.

Lalna and Panda came to stay with Nano and Lomadia, because reporters were constantly swarming their apartment complex like ants over a discarded peppermint. True to his word, Strife somehow managed to keep all of them out of the spotlight, hidden from the public eye. Nilesy, true to Strife's word, got absolutely nothing.

Nano called him, at one point. It was half because she needed to reassure herself that he wasn't the monster the media made him out to be and half because no one else in the world was treating him like a human being.

She used a secure, untraceable line. It was for the best.

"I'm sorry about all this, Nilesy," she told him, after the pleasantries had run out.

_"You haven't got to be,"_ he said. _"It was bound to happen sooner or later. Honestly, I'm a bit relieved. At least it's over with. Or it will be, soon. Once the worst has happened, it's all uphill."_

"Did you know you've got fangirls?"

_"Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, don't remind me,"_ he sighed. She could hear him rolling his eyes. _"Honest to God, what the fuck is wrong with people?"_

The deliberation of the jury, when it came around, lasted nearly four hours, and it was the longest four hours of Nano's life. She and Lalna and Lomadia and Panda, and even Zoey and Fiona, all gathered together to watch the verdict.

Not guilty, they said, by reason of insanity.

_"However,"_ the spokesman said, _"the jury recommends that he be committed indefinitely to the Fair Isle Institute for Powered Individuals."_

"No!" Panda shouted, leaping to his feet, as though they could hear him through the TV. Lomadia pressed a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. Nano could only sit and watch, numb, distant.

"What, that seems—that's not so bad, right?" Fiona said, looking around at them in bafflement. "I mean. _Right?"_

Nano just shook her head. Lomadia was clutching her hand so hard it was leaving bruises. Panda was cursing, weeping. Lalna sat, watching the TV with idle, uncaring curiosity. Zoey was crying quietly, her face twisted up in distress.

The judge took the recommendation. The cameras cut to Nilesy. He sat perfectly still, pale as paper, his eyes wide and staring and leaking tears. They had to call in police to remove the crowds outside the courtroom. People had started throwing rocks.

Eventually, Fiona got up and turned off the TV. Panda was inconsolable, bruising his knuckles on the floor with helpless despair. Nano found that she could not grieve, could not hold herself in the present long enough for it. It was too symmetrical, too _fitting._ Perhaps the jury had been bribed, or blackmailed, or planted. Perhaps the judge or the defense attorney had been bought. It hardly mattered. This, plainly, was the dropped shoe, the third point on that dreadful, ruthless line.

She could only wonder who was next.


	20. Chapter 19

He'd broken damn near every bone in Rythian's body, and he wanted more.

Rythian wasn't unconscious, crumpled on the floor of the lab, but he was unresponsive. There was a great deal of blood, smeared across the rubber floors from where he'd tried to crawl away. The hammer was dripping with it.

It was the third time that week. He wanted _more._

In his peripheral vision, Five yawned, pressing her knuckles to her lips. She was sitting on one of the lab benches, kicking her feet idly. Rythian had stopped making much noise a while ago. It was no wonder it was getting boring for her.

"God, Boss, I know _you_ never get tired, but I sure do," she said. Lalnable finally took his eyes off Rythian's mangled body and looked to her.

"You should go to bed, then," he said. "I can clean up here."

Five wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, but I don't want to go all by myself."

"I'll be up just as soon as I can," he promised. "Besides, you could use a good night's sleep every once in a while. You've been _very_ busy, arranging everything for my _other_ brother."

She stretched her arms up over her head with a groan. He snuck over and slid an arm around her waist, kissed her neck. The blood on his hand smeared across her white lab coat, vibrant. She jumped, then giggled, tipping her head back and draping her arms over his shoulders.

"Maybe I don't _want_ a good night's sleep," she said.

"Mm, but—you could—use one," he said, punctuating his words with kisses on her neck. "Besides—if I leave him like this—he'll be dead—by the time we're done."

 _"Fine,"_ Five sighed, putting her hands on his chest and pushing him back. "Clean up. But you'd better be as quick as you can."

"I believe that's the first time you've _ever_ said that to me," he said, playful.

She laughed, then tangled a hand in his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. Distantly, he could feel her saliva burning his tongue, his lips, the pain registering only as a faint prickle. He rested his hand on her thigh and pressed his thumb between her legs. She canted her hips forward with a moan.

"You're not making a convincing case for me to let you go," she said.

Lalnable glanced over his shoulder. Rythian was still lying where he'd left him, bloody and broken, but breathing. Granted, he was gurgling a bit more than was sustainable, and must have been in _excruciating_ pain. . . .

He kissed Five's neck again, setting the hammer down and laying his hand on her breast, pressing in closer to her.

"Just one," he murmured.

She laughed, low and throaty, rutting against his hand.

"Don't be quick about it," she said.

* * *

 

Difficult as it was, Lalnable finally managed to send Five away. He would gladly have taken her all night, but Rythian was barely breathing, and the pool of blood under him was getting rather large.

Lalnable started with the basics—long needles for the lungs, to repair any wounds before he tried to get the fluid out, a few smaller injections in the face to get all the bones back in order. Rythian was totally unconscious by then, limp in his hands. He fed a long tube down Rythian's newly-healed sinuses and got the suction going, drawing out the blood and mucous that had pooled there.

While that was running, Lalnable took care of the rest of the internal organs, more long needles and high doses. Then the left arm, so he could get the IV fluid started. It was a particular cocktail of sugars, proteins, fats, electrolytes, and trace nutrients brewed specifically for use with the serum—otherwise Rythian's body would starve to death in his hands from the metabolic cost.

After that, it all became much more meticulous. There were bones to set, joints to rejoin, tendons to restring. Halfway through the left leg, Rythian regained some form of consciousness. Lalnable had to stuff a wad of cloth in his mouth to keep him from waking Five with his screaming.

This wasn't for her.

As Rythian's strength returned, so too did his voltage, at first a faint tingle in Lalnable's hands and then a deep, titillating thrum that went all the way to his chassis. It was _good._ It was the only thing in the whole wide world he could properly _feel._

When Rythian started struggling, Lalnable carried him back to his gurney and strapped him down. He lingered on the collar, on the supple throat beneath his fingers. Rythian was still bleeding, profusely in some places. The red was vibrant against the browns of his skin. It looked incredibly good on him.

Still, Lalnable was determined to do this properly, all the way to the end. Every break, bruise, and laceration had to be fixed. The blood and sweat had to be cleaned off him with a series of wet wipes. By the end, Rythian was weeping, lying still, lying quiet.

His body might not have been broken anymore, but he was.

Lalnable stroked his face, gently. Every touch was an ecstasy of sensation.

"You've been so good, Rythian," he said. "I thought I might give you a little reward. You've been so very good for me."

Rythian drew a shuddering breath. His eyes were closed. His lips were pinched tight together. His hands were balled into fists.

"Would you like something nice?" Lalnable inquired, keeping his voice soft.

His only response was to swallow, his throat working beneath the tight collar. His chest rose and fell with his breath, ribs pressing out against the mottled skin. Lalnable smiled, wiping the tears from Rythian's face, and kissed his forehead. The burst of electric sensation through his lips was heavenly.

"Let's get you something nice," he said. He moved away, back to the refrigerator where he'd stored his special treat. He rolled the syringe between his hands as he returned to Rythian's side, warming it, mixing it.

"I made this just for you," he mentioned. Rythian was still crying, harder now. Tiny whimpers escaped his throat, exquisite, pitiful. "All calculated just right. It's a house blend, you might say. Hahah. I think you'll like it. I think you'll _adore_ it, Rythian."

"Please," Rythian whispered, so frightened and so broken that it sent chills up Lalnable's spine. He stroked Rythian's hair, still damp from being cleaned. The flood of electricity was sweeter even than he'd remembered.

"Shh," he murmured. He kissed Rythian's forehead again, let his lips linger. He found Rythian's carotid artery with the point of the needle, let it rest against the skin. "Shh, you'll like this one."

There was just a pinch of serum in with everything else, so Lalnable only had to hold his thumb over the puncture for a moment to keep Rythian's blood from spurting out. He watched, enraptured, as the chemicals swamped Rythian's brain. The eyes unfocused, the jaw went slack. The fists unclenched. A long, slow, shuddering breath, a long, slow, blissful moan. The eyes rolled back. The body grew soft and languid.

Lalnable trailed his hand down Rythian's neck, his chest, his stomach. Gooseflesh followed his touch, spreading across all the fresh-healed skin. Even as slow and heavy and pliant as Rythian was, he still _writhed_ in ecstasies, moans spilling over his lips like prayer. Lalnable undid his restraints, all but the one around his neck. He unclipped that one from the table and lifted Rythian into his arms. It was effortless, the weight of him little more than a feather, but so much contact so swiftly had Rythian half screaming. Lalnable put two fingers in his mouth and let him bite them, let his wandering tongue explore the texture. He carried Rythian away, out of the main laboratory, further from Five's prying ears. He'd made a nest back here, behind a hidden door in the old microscopy room—soft things, only the softest of things for Rythian. Lalnable laid him down, whole and clean and _helpless,_ and then settled next to him. He ran his hands over Rythian's body, slowly, taking his time. Rythian wriggled and gasped, all his movements clumsy and restrained. Lalnable pulled him into his lap, cradling his head on his forearm because he couldn't hold it up on his own.

For hours, they stayed there, just like that, Rythian's charge coursing through Lalnable's flesh, Lalnable's hands caressing Rythian's skin, and both of them in ecstasy, and both of them fever-hot. It was bliss. It was fleeting, stolen, _manufactured_ bliss.

Finally, Rythian began to come down, some semblance of clarity returning to his eyes. Lalnable stroked his cheek with his thumb, unable to feel the texture, the temperature, the sweat on his skin. There was only the humming electric sparkle, but _God,_ that was so much more than enough.

"There, there you are," he murmured. He touched Rythian's lips and watched his head twitch as he tried to catch Lalnable's hand. Amused, Lalnable pressed the pad of his thumb to Rythian's lower lip, let him mouth ineffectually at the digit like a suckling kitten. He laughed to himself.

"Was it nice, Rythian?" he asked. "Was it good?"

Rythian turned his head, just a few degrees. His eyes were glassy, wavering in and out of focus. Lalnable stroked his cheek, petted his hair.

"I do take such good care of you," he said. "I shouldn't, but I do. I love to see you hurt, Rythian, but I can't resist making you whole again. I'd drag you back a thousand times if I could. Hah. Ahahahah. And maybe I will. A _thousand_ times, Rythian."

 _"Mmh,"_ said Rythian, trying unsuccessfully to roll out of Lalnable's lap. He was so vulnerable there, so perfect, and they were so alone. How he'd plotted and schemed, how he'd _obsessed_ over a moment like this! He hadn't dared to speak of it to Five, hadn't dared to air his shameful secrets in front of her. His mind was broken, and it he _should_ have asked her to fix it for him, because of course she could, but there was something irresistibly sweet about Rythian, and he couldn't bear to lose it. Five didn't have to know. It couldn't hurt her if she didn't know.

For once, _alone._

"I dream about you," Lalnable said. His voice was rusty, razor-edged. "It's all from Lalna. Memories. _Feelings._ Clinging like _parasites_ to the undersides of weapon protocols and training simulations. I _dream_ about you. I can't stop thinking about you. Because he loved you, did you know? Did you know how _obsessed_ he was? I do. I can't get away from it. And Five is my only, my _everything,_ but Rythian, hahah, _Rythian,_ I can't stop _thinking_ about you. It's driving me mad. I can feel it destroying me, line by line. I can feel _you._ Destroying me. Line. By. _Line."_

He leaned in, slowly, slowly, closer with every word, until their lips brushed. Rythian's breath caught. The electric rush of him was consuming, intoxicating.

"You can't understand what it's like," Lalnable whispered, touching his neck, his shoulder, his chest, his stomach. "You don't know, what it's like. But you will. Hahah, you _will._ Because I'm going to take you apart, Rythian. Line by line. And you will love me first and only, and I will be your everything. And when I've killed my brother and taken back what _should_ have been mine, when I'm whole again, I'll forget you. Hahah. Ahah, hahahah."

Rythian tried to speak. The words were a mess, mangled by his drug-clumsy tongue.

"Maybe," Lalnable said, his mind whirring with fevered possibilities. "maybe I could convince Five to _share_ you. She won't mind, will she, if she gets part of the fun? She'll understand, won't she? She understands _wanting._ She understands _needing."_

 _"Nej,"_ Rythian slurred, gasping and weak. _"Snälla, nej. . . ."_

"Don't worry, Rythian," Lalnable murmured, switching seamlessly to Swedish. He had so many languages in his head, and they were all facile. "Don't worry, you'll still be mine." He laid his hand over Rythian's diaphragm, where the voltaic node was churning away, hot with its exertions.

"Please, no," Rythian repeated. There was rust in his voice, a longing that struck through well-used pathways in Lalnable's system, diverting blood flow and cranking up his sensitivity. Ordinarily it was a cruel joke, but now, with Rythian's electricity coursing through him, it was _euphoric._ He shuddered. He laid Rythian down on the soft substrate and straddled him, carefully, gently, so as not to hurt him. He stroked Rythian's neck and chest, one hand still resting flat-palm on the voltaic node.

He did not want this. He should snap Rythian's neck, and oh how easy it would be. Kill this vile incubus, wear his skin, bring his heart to Five and watch her eat it bloody from his hands—

But he _ached_ for Rythian, for every touch of his skin and every breath from his lips, memorizing every twitch of his eyes. To kiss those lips would be heaven, to hear that voice utter his name would be salvation, to feel those hands upon him would be absolution—

Would be treachery. Would be cruel and wicked. Would _hurt her._ He couldn't bear to hurt her, not even for this.

The euphoria of sensation, electricity under his skin, the voltaic node hot under his hand.

Warning bells clamored in Lalnable's head as the temperature of his circuitry skyrocketed, lacking proper coolants. He fought against himself, because Rythian was _here_ and he was _now_ and it couldn't hurt, just once, just for a little while, just to make the dreams stop—

He overheated and shut down.

* * *

 

Astonishingly, he woke up to find that Rythian hadn't killed him. He was huddled in the corner, watching Lalnable with huge blue eyes, still not totally focused. Slowly, Lalnable eased himself into a sitting position while his system warmed back up. His internal clock told him he'd been out for about three hours.

"I'm astonished, Rythian," he said. "I thought I'd be waking up dead."

Rythian didn't answer, just watching. He was like a feral dog, cornered, frightened. He looked cold.

"Might I ask _why?"_ Lalnable said, teasing. "It couldn't be that you _care_ about me, Rythian. I know you don't. I know you hate me. Is it because I look like _him?_ Is that it?"

"Them," Rythian whispered.

Lalnable frowned, putting his head to one side. _"Them_ who?"

"Lalna's a—a _them,_ not a _him,"_ said Rythian. His voice was thin and hoarse.

Lalnable blinked. This was something of a revelation.

"Are they," he said. "Interesting. I'll remember that."

Rythian didn't respond. A shiver ran through him. The collar was still tight around his throat.

"Are you cold?" Lalnable asked.

He swallowed. His eyes darted. Carefully, he nodded. Lalnable threw a heavy blanket at him. Rythian yelped and flinched, and Lalnable laughed.

Trembling, his eyes filled with tears, Rythian wrapped himself in the blanket, huddled and small. Lalnable searched his brains for the proper word to describe the image, and hit upon one that nearly made him laugh aloud again.

 _Cute._ He was _cute._

"Would you like something to eat, Rythian?" Lalnable asked. "Something to drink?"

He nodded, a rapid bob of the head that made his teeth chatter.

"If I leave, you're not going to ambush me when I come back in, are you?" he inquired, grinning.

Rythian shook his head, just as emphatically.

"Mm, we'll just take out some _insurance_ on that, I think," said Lalnable.

He got up, slowly. Rythian backed into the corner, pressing himself against the wall and whimpering. Lalnable went to the far corner of the room and got a short leather leash down from a steel U-loop on the ceiling. He crossed to Rythian—who was trying to press himself back through the wall—and knelt before him.

"If you're feeling inclined to bite me," he said, "I'll go ahead and tell you, it won't do much good."

Rythian stayed pressed against the wall, his bony chest heaving with his breath. Lalnable reached out and took hold of the collar, turning it until the metal ring was facing him. He clipped the leash to it, then wrapped the other end of the leash around his hand twice. Rythian had shut his eyes, clutching the blanket around him.

"Maybe we'll let you warm up a bit first," Lalnable mused. He shifted, sitting down next to Rythian. He leaned back on his hands and stretched out his legs, an open invitation for Rythian to climb into his lap. Rythian didn't take it. He stayed huddled in the corner, the blanket wrapped tight around him. Lalnable let him stay like that until he stopped shivering. Then he took the blanket off of Rythian's shoulders and tossed it away.

Slowly, Lalnable got to his feet and took a few steps back, letting the leash play out. He gave it an experimental tug. Rythian jerked forward, his chin lifted, his shoulders tight. Lalnable pulled, slowly, until Rythian had to crawl across the floor to kneel at his feet. He took Rythian's chin in his hand and smiled at him.

"Why can't you always be this good, Rythian?" he asked.

Rythian just stared at him, eyes struggling to focus, already shivering again.

Lalnable lifted the leash up, forcing Rythian to get to his feet or else be strangled. He threaded the leash through the steel loop and tied it off, keeping the line short and taut, such that Rythian either had to stand on his toes or be half strangled. Rythian clutched the collar with both hands, whimpering, wriggling. Lalnable rested his hands on Rythian's hips and pressed up close to him, electricity surging through every inch of him.

"I'll hurry back," he promised, his lips nearly brushing Rythian's cheek. "Wouldn't want to leave you hanging."

 _"Please,"_ Rythian choked, breathless, desperate.

Lalnable laughed to himself while Rythian tried to stand on his feet. He waited until Rythian clutched at him with both hands, then leaned in and kissed his neck, just above the collar. He tightened his hands on Rythian's hips and lifted him half an inch off the ground. Rythian clung to him, hands and arms and legs, gasping and trembling. Lalnable pressed his tongue to Rythian's jugular vein, just barely able to feel the pulse fluttering beneath the skin. Rythian shuddered, recoiling.

Lalnable put him down and then extracted himself from Rythian's clinging limbs, somewhat forcibly. Rythian went back to holding the collar and whimpering.

"Still not quite learned your lesson," Lalnable said sadly. "Do _try_ not to choke until I get back."

 _Please,_ Rythian mouthed. There were tears running down his cheeks. _Please. Please._

"Be good," Lalnable admonished, and ambled out of the room.

He took his time, monitoring the little camera in the corner of Rythian's room while he made some chicken noodle soup and dug out a bottle of blue sports drink from the back of the refrigerator. The sun was up, shining weakly through a filmy rain, the last of the sand running through this charmed hourglass. Soon Five would be up and about again, and Lalnable would have to relinquish his exclusivity to their plaything.

Downstairs, Rythian continued to struggle and, importantly, to breathe. He was doing surprisingly well. After the soup was all prepared, Lalnable idled for almost five minutes just outside the door, until Rythian's legs were trembling so hard it made his whole body quiver, until the sound of his desperate whimpers carried through the walls. Then he slipped inside, and closed the door behind him, and regarded Rythian critically.

"Holding up all right?" he inquired.

Rythian loosed a particularly pathetic whine, and Lalnable couldn't stand it any longer. He set down the bowl of soup and the bottle and crossed to Rythian in two strides, took him around the waist and lifted him up again. Rythian grappled onto him with all the strength left in his limbs, pulling his hair, wrapping his legs around Lalnable's waist. He gasped beautifully, his head lolling forward. He was drenched with sweat, increasing the conductance of his skin. The rush was unbelievable. Lalnable licked his neck again, tasting the salt, the lactic acid, the amides. Rythian didn't try to pull away this time, just clinging to him and panting. Absently, Lalnable reached up and untied the leash from the steel loop, one-handed. He wrapped it around his hand twice, then tugged on it gently. Rythian's back straightened, his head lifting instinctively.

"Down you get," said Lalnable. "Your dinner's getting cold."

He didn't move, shivering. Lalnable pulled back on the leash, slowly, bending Rythian over backwards until he finally detached himself and stood on his own two feet. Lalnable gestured to the food and drink.

"Go on," he said.

Rythian stared at him, and then at the food, and back at him. Lalnable nodded encouragingly. Rythian started for the food. Lalnable let the leash play out its full four feet and then grabbed on tightly. Rythian pulled up short, choking, nearly yanked off his feet. Lalnable hauled him back and grabbed him around the waist, pressing his chest to Rythian's back.

"Say _thank you,"_ he murmured into Rythian's ear.

"Th-thank . . . you," Rythian whispered, hoarse.

"Thank you _who?"_ Lalnable prompted, grinning.

The way Rythian ground his teeth was simply exquisite. The way he trembled, the way his breath came short, the way his fingers curled in helpless frustration. . . .

"No," he said.

Lalnable laughed, delighted. He shoved Rythian forward, releasing the leash.

"Oh, _good,"_ he said. "I thought I'd gone and broken you."

Rythian skittered across the room, pulling up in a feral crouch next to the food. He watched Lalnable tensely, sparks flitting through his hair. Lalnable watched him right back, giving nothing away. Slowly, Rythian reached out for the bottle of blue sports drink, his eyes fixed on Lalnable. He got hold of it and struggled to get it open, eventually resorting to using his teeth. Lalnable leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. Rythian chugged half the bottle in one go, spilling blue liquid over his chin and neck. He went for the soup next, not even bothering to glance at Lalnable. There was something endearing about the ravenous energy of him, something of gratitude in his desperation.

"I got the blue ones because they're your favorite," said Lalnable, when Rythian had finished the soup and was polishing off the last sips of the sports drink.

Rythian wound down like a toy and then stopped. He turned his eyes back to Lalnable. He licked his lips. He swallowed.

"Why?" he said.

Lalnable tipped his head to the side. _"Why_ what?"

"Why—me. Why _this._ All of this— _why?"_

"Oh, _that,"_ said Lalnable, laughing. "Because Lalna ruined my life, and Nano abandoned Five to be tortured. So I'm taking Lalna's body, and Five is going to murder Nano, and in the mean time we're burning down everything either of them ever loved, because it's _awfully_ fun to watch them panic. You're just . . . _bonus."_

Which was true, if not the whole truth. Five's machinations were much grander, but they were under no circumstances to be shared with anyone. She'd been very clear on that.

Rythian didn't say anything in response. He just stared at Lalnable, something between pity and disgust on his face. A quiet notification pinged Lalnable's systems, informing him that Five's bedroom door had just opened.

"Well," said Lalnable. "Time to go back to bed, Rythian."

Rythian lunged for the door, but Lalnable was faster. He stomped on the leash before Rythian was all the way up, clotheslining him. Rythian landed on his back with a heavy _thud_ and an ugly choking sound. Lalnable picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

An angry, screaming, thrashing, electrified sack of potatoes.

"It won't get you anywhere," Lalnable informed him, while Rythian struggled. "It's only going to hurt _you."_

Rythian, as expected, did not heed this sage advice, and continued bruising and bloodying his knuckles and knees and elbows on Lalnable's back and chest. Lalnable felt the strikes only dimly, though they were certainly causing damage to his flesh. He carried Rythian back to the main experimentation room and strapped him down again. He rolled up the leash and stuck it in the pocket of his lab coat. He gave Rythian one last kiss on the forehead before leaving him.

Briefly, he checked his face in a mirror before heading upstairs. The bruises and lacerations Rythian had left on him were healing up nicely, and within a minute they were completely gone. Lalnable straightened his shirt and lab coat, then returned the leash to its secret nook. That done, he headed back upstairs.

Five had evidently just finished her breakfast, and he encountered her in the main room in front of the stairs. She must have been on her way down.

"Ah! There you are," he said. "I was just coming to find you."

"Where've you been all night?" Five demanded, her fists on her hips. Lalnable's chest flooded with guilt, which he fought back down before it could give him away.

"Rythian was a bit more, er, _time-intensive_ than I'd expected," he said.

Five made a face. "Didja shag him?"

Panic shot through his systems. He laughed. "What? No, hahah, no, of course not."

She snorted. "Pity. You've had a hard-on for him for _months._ I thought for sure you'd go for it."

"I couldn't," he whined, which was absolutely, _unflinchingly_ true. "Five, I could never do that to you."

"I don't care who you shag in your spare time," she said, rolling her eyes. "'Sides, _I'd_ shag him if you gave me half a chance."

 _"Oh,"_ said Lalnable. Those possibilities started whirring in his head again. "Would you?"

"Uh, _yeah,"_ she said. "I'm blind, not asexual. If he looks half as good as he sounds, _hwuh!"_ She fanned herself.

"It really is only about half," said Lalnable. Five laughed. She reached out a hand and he took it.

"I'm glad you didn't," she said softly. "If I'm honest."

He knelt and kissed her knuckles. "So am I," he said. "If I'm honest." _But now that you've mentioned it. . . ._

She found his face with her other hand, ran her fingers through a lock of his fringe.

"Boss?" she said.

"Yes, Five?"

"I. . . ." She hesitated.

"What?" he said, frowning. Her fingertips came to rest on his forehead.

"I could make it so you don't," she said. "If you don't want to. With the way you talk about him, and—and everything, I thought maybe. . . ."

He kissed her hand again. He was running hot.

"What if I _do_ want to?" he asked, and there was so much more vulnerability in his voice than he'd intended.

She cupped his cheek, brushed the corner of his mouth with her thumb. She leaned down and kissed him, although even with him kneeling, it wasn't far to lean.

"Then there's nothing to fix," she said.

"Five," he breathed. Something in his chest actually, physically _hurt._ It was wonderful.

"I'm serious. You've always been a bit obsessed with him. It's not like it's a surprise."

He leaned into the hand on his face. She petted his cheek.

"It's from Lalna," he said. "You know how I've got bits of them in me. That's one."

"Well, the other bits have been pretty useful," she said. "There was bound to be _some_ bullshit. So long as it doesn't bother you."

"It does bother me," he said. "But mainly because I don't want to hurt _you."_

 _"Well,"_ said Five, smiling. "You've got my explicit permission to shag Rythian next time it comes up. _Provided_ you work out a way I can get on that without melting him. I wouldn't want to take chances with the serum fixing it, otherwise it'll be a one-time fling and _that's_ no fun."

He kissed her palm, her wrist, her lips.

"Top priority," he said. "All four trillion Hertz, at your service."

"Good," she said. "That's what I like to hear."


	21. Chapter 20

"This is fucked," Panda said, for the millionth time. "This is so _fucked."_

"You can stop saying that," Lomadia mumbled. She was too tired to be annoyed. "We know. It's really bad."

"It's not _just_ bad, Lom," he retorted. "Don't you get it? They're making us _choose._ They're making us _choose_ who to save."

"Not us," said Lalna. "Just me, really."

"What?" said Lomadia, frowning.

"Well," they said, shrugging. "It's my brother and my boyfriend, and it's me who got hit first. It's pretty likely it's about me."

"But it's _my_ . . . thing," Nano said. "Why would _my_ thing come after _you?"_

"I dunno," said Lalna. "She probably took Lalnable. Maybe she wants a matched set."

"Who fucking _cares?"_ Panda demanded, his voice too loud. "It doesn't matter _why._ We've got to _do_ something. About both of them! We can't just sit about anymore!"

"We can't do anything," Lomadia said. "We don't even know where Rythian is."

"We sure as hell know where _Nilesy_ is!"

"Where he's going to be," Nano mumbled. "Not being transported 'til tomorrow."

"Super! Let's go get him _right now."_

"And do _what,_ Panda?" she retorted. "Go on the run again? That might've worked last time, but we'd be shit out of luck now. _Especially_ with Nilesy's face all over the news for a week!"

"So what're you saying?" Panda asked. His voice was glassy, fragile. "We just _let_ them send him back?"

"I don't know," Nano said, turning her face away. "I'm working on it."

"Oh, just like you're working on finding Rythian?"

"Stop it," Lomadia snapped. "You're not helping."

"Nobody's helping! Nobody's doing _anything!"_

"It's really a pretty clever plot, actually," Lalna said.

"Oh, God, here we go," Nano muttered, so quietly that probably nobody else heard her.

"And it's working, I think," they went on. "They're making us fight a war on too many fronts. They're overwhelming us. We've got to choose a battle and fight it, otherwise they'll just keep picking us off, one by one."

"So which one do we _pick,_ oh Master Tactician?" Panda said, his lip curling.

Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"That's a good question," they said. "I think the first thing should be to fix my priority set. It'll keep Specimen Five from being able to hack me as effectively. It won't stop her completely, but it might slow her down a little."

"Oh sure, look after yourself first," Panda said.

"If you don't stop, I'm going to hit you," Lomadia said. He bared his teeth at her.

"Try it," he said.

Lomadia stood up, spreading her wings and glaring down at Panda. He shrank.

"Stop making it worse," she said.

He looked away, rubbing his arm.

"Sorry," he said. "I wasn't—I'm just . . . scared. They're both in such deep shit and there's nothing I can do about it and—"

"It's all right, Panda," Nano said. "Everybody's on edge. Everybody's upset. _Except_ Lalna, yes, you haven't got to remind us. Sweetheart, you can probably stop menacing him now."

Lomadia shook out her wings and settled back down.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"He _has_ got a point," Lalna said. "And I don't mind explaining. I want to fix myself first so I can be more helpful. Part of the way you win at stuff like this is to rescue your assets so you can actually fight back."

"Fine," said Panda. "Sure. So we fix you, then what?"

"Oh, that's easy," said Lalna. "Then we find Specimen Five and kill her."

Nano lifted her head from the armrest of the couch and stared at them, wide-eyed. Panda's eyebrows shot up.

"That sounds good," said Lomadia, flexing her claws. "I think that sounds like the best idea we've had so far."

"Thanks," Lalna said, smiling at her, their eyes remaining that flat blue. "I sort of took some inspiration from you. There's no reason to make things complicated. If we destroy the source of the problem, we can clean everything else up easy."

"Lal, you can't—you can't just _kill_ people!" Nano said, horrified.

They tipped their head to the side. "Why not?" they asked.

"Because it's wrong!"

"You weren't upset when Panda was suggesting it," Lalna pointed out.

"He's _Panda,_ he _says_ shit like that! You're supposed to know better!"

"Gee, thanks," Panda sneered.

"They _have_ got a point," Lomadia said. "You weren't upset until it was them saying it."

"Right?" Lalna said, glancing at Lomadia. "It's worked before. It worked with the YogLabs Board. Our tactics could have used some work, but—"

"No! We are not talking about this! We're not _considering_ this! We're not killing anybody!"

"She nearly killed Lalna, got Nilesy sent off to literal hell, and done God only knows _what_ to Rythian!" Panda snapped. "She's got it fucking coming!"

"See?" said Lalna. "Everybody but you agrees with me. We could vote on it and I'd win. We should fix my brains and then kill Specimen Five and whoever's working with her. It could be Lalnable. We've even killed him once already, so it hardly even counts."

"If you kill her, you're no better than she is," Nano said. Her voice was shaking.

"Moral superiority is totally irrelevant," Lalna said, rolling their eyes. "At the end of the day, she'll be dead and we'll still be alive. That's the only thing that matters."

"Jesus _Christ,_ Lal, are you _listening_ to yourself?" Nano cried. "You sound—you're turning out just like Xephos wanted you to!"

Panda sucked in a breath through his teeth. Lomadia recoiled, taken aback by the uncommon viciousness of the jab.

Lalna paused, turned their head. The color of their eyes was still unchanged.

"Was that supposed to hurt me?" they asked.

"It was supposed to make you _think,"_ Nano said, tearful.

"I'd already thought of it," they said.

"And it doesn't— _bother_ you?"

Their eyes flickered.

"Now it doesn't," they said.

Lomadia's feathers all stood on end. Slowly, Panda leaned away from Lalna. Nano's throat bobbed as she swallowed.

"Okay," Nano said, in that defusing-a-bomb voice she used sometimes when Nilesy was too upset. "Okay, let's just . . . consider all our options."

"I have," said Lalna. Their eyes were getting redder. "I considered all the options _ages_ ago. This is what we should do. It's the most likely plan to succeed with the least risk to us. I don't know why you're getting all upset and arguing with me. I know what I'm talking about."

"Right, yeah, of course," said Nano, raising her hands. "You're absolutely right, Lal. So why don't I—why don't I go ahead and get your brains fixed up? The sooner we get started on this, the better!"

Panda was edging away across the floor, his eye darting between Nano and Lalna. Lomadia could hear his heart pounding, hummingbird-quick. Nano's, too, was thudding fast and frightened. Her skin was shiny with sweat.

Lalna's eyes went back to their normal blue. "Cool," they said. "I'll go get everything set up. Thanks, Nano."

They stood up too quickly. Lomadia tensed, her wings flaring out of their own accord. Lalna paid her no mind and ambled off to the bedroom. Nobody said anything for a good ten seconds.

"Um," Panda said at last.

Lomadia put a finger to her lips. She pointed to her own ear, then at the bedroom where Lalna had gone. Panda swallowed.

"I could—use some fresh air," he said.

"Sounds like a great idea," Nano agreed, scrambling to her feet.

"I'll go too," said Lomadia. The three of them hurried out of the flat. Nano and Panda paused just outside the door, but Lomadia led them away, out to one side of the building. It was raining, and there was enough traffic to cover the sound of their voices.

"Okay," she said. "This should be okay."

"What the _honest_ fuck was that?" Panda said.

"I don't know," Nano said. "I think—I think maybe something's wrong with them. They _have_ been hacked, I mean, it's not totally outside the realm of possibility that something got put in their head to make them—make them—"

"Horrible?" Lomadia suggested.

"At least," said Nano. "I'm going to try and put it right. And if I can't, I'll—maybe I'll just, y'know. . . ." She fidgeted, biting her lip, her face pinched.

"Just what?" Panda said softly.

"Leave them . . . shut down," Nano mumbled. "Temporarily! It's—it's always temporary, with them, and anyway, they've got like, nine days left at most, it's . . . for the best. And it's only if I can't put it right, I mean. . . ."

"You literally _just_ said we shouldn't be killing people," Panda said.

"Yes! We shouldn't! Which is why I might have to power down Lal for a bit until I can work out why they're so hellbent on it!"

"It feels really _really_ odd to be the one saying this, but I think you might be overreacting a bit," Panda said. "They've got a point."

"They've got something _wrong_ with them," Nano said. "This isn't normal. You can't tell me this is normal!"

"They'll be really upset with you," Lomadia said. "They'll know you lied to them."

"Lom, it's a miracle they didn't work it out right then and there," Nano said. "I don't _care_ if they're upset with me when they—okay, fine, I _will_ care, of course I'll care, but I can't have them running off and killing people! If they hate me forever and never speak to me again, it'll—it's still a price I'm willing to pay!"

"Nano, seriously," Panda said. "We're not talking about, like, Divisioners or hired guns. We're talking about the fucking _monster_ that's been ruining all our lives! You've been calling her an _it_ the whole time, you can't give _that_ many fucks about her!"

"And has _she_ killed any of us?" Nano demanded.

"She _tried_ to kill Lalna," Lomadia said. "And some things are worse than dying, anyway. Nilesy would've rather died than go back. You know he would. She cut bits out of Rythian, too, that's awful."

"But they're not _dead,_ are they! Fuck's sake, if everybody died the first time something awful happened to them, there'd be nobody left!"

"We don't _know_ they're not dead," Panda said. "We've got no idea if Rythian's still alive, or how long he will be. And same for Niles, honestly! Maybe they're just shipping him off where they can kill him quietly! The longer we sit about doing nothing, the worse it's going to get!"

"Panda, _listen_ to me, something is _wrong,"_ Nano insisted. "For all we know, we've got a time-bomb sitting in my bedroom! Even without their MALaRs, Lalna could kill us. Lalna could _kill us._ And if someone's _trying_ to kill us, which somebody really clearly is, then it'd be one hell of a shortcut to fuck up Lal's brain enough that they do it!"

"But, Lalna's not going to hurt us," Lomadia said. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, rocking side to side. "Right? They wouldn't do that."

"They also wouldn't suggest killing people as a solution, Lom," Nano said. "I mean it. I've seen them get like this before. Panda's seen it, too."

Panda shrugged, rubbing at his throat. "Well," he said. "Yeah, but that was ages ago. Back when they were still all metal. And it was only because Niles and me were trying to kill Rythian. Sort of makes sense they'd be getting like that again, since now somebody else is trying to kill Rythian."

"I believe you," Lomadia said to Nano. "That there's something wrong."

"Well _yeah,_ I mean _that's_ obvious," Panda said. "But—couldn't it just be their power-saving or whatever? They said they'd turned off like eighty percent of their personality or something, maybe it's just that."

"It . . . shouldn't do that, though," Nano said. "Their morality database is separate from their personality matrix, and I can't think why they'd need to fiddle about with their morals to save power. And this is clearly a morals issue."

"Sort of," Panda said. "They didn't object much to the whole Board thing. Beforehand, anyway. They got a bit bent out of shape afterwards, at least for a little while."

Nano sighed. "Look," she said. "At the very least, I'm going to have to go in their head to fix the priority thing so they can't be hacked as easily. There's no harm in me just . . . having a look about, while I'm there. Can we at least agree on that?"

"Yeah, I mean, nobody was saying you _shouldn't_ do that," Panda said, making a face. "Just that shutting them down indefinitely without their consent might be a bit _much."_

"Right," said Nano, sagging. "Right, yeah. Um. Before we go back in there, um. . . ."

"What?" said Lomadia.

"I just—I'm just a bit concerned? About how Lal might react, moving forward? So . . . d'you think you two could sort of have my back? Through this?"

"Of course," said Lomadia. "I'm not sure I'm stronger than them, but I can knock them over."

"That—could be helpful," Nano said. "Er, mainly, there's . . . a kill-switch, a—not like that, but a hard shutoff. Button. Um. And if things go pear-shaped, you might have to press it."

"Oh," said Lomadia, a bad feeling rising in her stomach.

"It's on the back of their neck," Nano said, touching the base of her own skull. "Under the skin. You can't see it, but it's pretty easy to find. Press and hold for three seconds."

"Jesus, that's a long time," Panda muttered. "Yeah, got it covered."

"You probably won't have to use it," Nano assured him. "I just wanted—just in case something goes really _really_ wrong, I wanted you to know. Just in case."

Lomadia touched her shoulder. "We've got you," she said.

"Thanks," Nano said. She rubbed her face and sighed again. "Okay. I s'pose we'd better just . . . do it, then."

"Okay," said Lomadia.

"After you," said Panda.

Nano started off back towards the flat, and Lomadia stuck close to her.

"I won't let you get hurt," she mentioned, because Nano's fists were clenched and her jaw was tight.

"Just don't hurt _them,_ Lom," Nano said. "Just _please_ don't hurt them."

Lomadia wrinkled her nose, but just said, "Okay."

The three of them went back inside, and cautiously made their way to the bedroom. Lalna was sitting on the bed, doing something on Nano's laptop. They glanced up as the others entered, eyes still blue.

"You need to change your password," they said to Nano.

"You could've just . . . _asked_ me for it," she said, exasperated. Panda was sidling around the perimeter of the room, moving behind Lalna.

"I would've, but you left," they said. "It was faster to just hack it. I promise I haven't stolen anything."

"That's—thank you, Lal, I appreciate that," she said. "Are you all set up?"

"Pretty much," said Lalna. They set the laptop aside. "I need you to put the connector cable in. I don't like doing it myself, it feels weird."

"Understandable," Nano said. Lalna picked up a coil of black wire from the bed and held it out to her. Nano accepted it gingerly. She uncoiled it, then stepped up to Lalna, reaching around towards the back of their neck.

Lalna's hand shot up so fast Lomadia didn't even see the movement. They grabbed Nano's wrist and she froze in place.

"Nano," they said. "I'm trusting you. I don't like for people to go in my brains. But I'm trusting you. Okay?"

"O-okay, Lal," Nano said. "I understand. It's okay. I'm only going to fix the stuff that Specimen Five messed up. I promise."

Lalna watched her for a moment.

Their eyes went red. Their hand clenched on Nano's wrist and she yelped. They shot to their feet.

"You're _lying!"_ they cried.

Nano tried to yank her wrist from their grasp, frantic. They picked her up by it, dangling her. She kicked and thrashed, gasping. Lomadia went for Lalna. Their other hand raised, palm-out. There was a rising, piercing whine. She froze.

Panda launched himself off the wall and cannoned into Lalna's back. They balled their free fist and cocked their elbow to strike him. He grabbed the back of their neck and pressed both thumbs into the base of their skull.

Lalna froze. Their eyes turned blue. The rising whine fell again. With a _click,_ the light of their eyes faded and went out.

Nano put her feet on their chest and pried her wrist out of their grasp. She fell heavily to the floor, and Lomadia rushed to her side.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, checking over Nano with fluttering hands. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm okay," Nano said, breathless, although she was cradling her wrist. "I'm—I'm okay, Lom."

"Oh _shit!"_ Panda squeaked. He scrambled off of Lalna as they toppled over backwards. Hurriedly, Lomadia grabbed them by their outstretched arm and hauled them back upright. As soon as she let go, though, they started falling over again.

"Um," she said, looking to Nano as she held Lalna upright by their arm.

"We'll just—set them down, for now," Nano said. She got to her feet, unsteadily, and stood on the bed to brace both hands against Lalna's shoulders. Panda came to help, too, and together the three of them managed to lay Lalna down on the bed without making any loud noises or breaking anything.

"Okay," said Panda. "What now?"

Nano rubbed at her face. She took a shuddering breath. Instead of speaking, she put both hands over her face and continued taking deep, shaky breaths. She was trembling all over. Lomadia went to her and gently embraced her. Nano buried her face in Lomadia's shirt and started sobbing.

"It's okay," Lomadia murmured, petting her hair. "It's okay. We're all okay."

She looked over Nano's head at Panda. He was keeping a wary eye on Lalna, massaging his hands absentmindedly. He saw her looking and raised his eyebrows at her. She nodded to him.

"I'm gonna call Zoey," he declared. "Seems like sort of an all-hands-on-deck situation."

 _"No,_ God," Nano said, her voice thick with tears. "The last thing we want is more bodies on the fucking pile."

"Nobody's gonna die, Nano," Panda said.

Lomadia fidgeted, flexing her wings. She didn't say anything, although her insides were squirming. Panda must have seen, after all. He noticed most things, even ones that happened very fast. It was much more likely that Lomadia had just misinterpreted the gesture, the noise. Of course Lalna hadn't been about to kill her—they didn't even have their lasers anymore, Nano had said so.

"And anyway," Panda went on, "the more people we have here, the more people can do something about it if Lal goes rogue again."

Nano shook her head. "I just—not Zoey, Panda, she—she lost an arm to . . . to. . . ."

"Well then, maybe Trell and Fox," he said. "With Trell, we could pretty much be sure nobody'd get hurt, because he'd just pop back in time and make sure it didn't happen."

 _"Assuming_ he's trustworthy," Nano said, and sniffled.

"Look," Panda said, exasperated. "We're not doing a great job of handling this ourselves, we could _use_ the help. You've got to trust _somebody."_

"My own—my—my adopted robot child just tried to—just—just _went off_ on me," Nano said, peeling herself off of Lomadia to glare at him. "Sorry if I'm not in a particularly _trusting_ mood!"

"I think getting Trell to come is a good idea," Lomadia said. "I like him okay. He really could help."

"We _barely know_ him!"

"Yeah," said Lomadia, "but he already really helped with getting the files and stuff for Specimen Five. And we trust Fox okay, xe could come, too. Even if he's bad, how much harm could he do, really?"

"Don't even get me _started,"_ said Nano.

"I think having him's better than not having him," said Lomadia. "Even if he's not totally trustworthy. It's better than nothing."

"You don't _know_ that," Nano moaned.

"No, I don't," said Lomadia. "But nothing's ever going to be completely safe and people are getting hurt and we've got to do _something._ You've got to get Lalna working again. We've got to rescue Nilesy and Rythian. We've got to make sure Specimen Five can't hurt us again."

Nano sniffled again. Lomadia kissed her head.

"We'll . . . we'll have to keep a close eye on Lal," Nano said, her voice shaking. "They've got a sort of—a sort of an auto-reboot that happens. Generally within six hours. So. . . ."

"I'll start some tea," Lomadia offered. "For everybody. I think everybody needs to calm down, and then you can fix Lalna and they'll be back to normal again."

"Sweetheart," Nano said, pained.

"I know," Lomadia said, "it's not that simple."

"All right," Nano said. "I . . . s'pose there's nothing to do but get started."


	22. Chapter 21

"I'll go ahead and tell you now, I'm not doing this for free," said Trell.

"Hi," said Panda, stepping aside and holding the door open for him. "Nice to see you, too. Where's Fox?"

"I dunno, having a life?" Trell said, slumping past Panda. He had both hands in his pockets and a surly expression on his face. "But I'm serious. We're talking commission before anybody does anything."

"Take it up with Nano," said Panda, shutting and locking the door. "She's the one with the most money out of everybody. She's in the bedroom with Lalna and Lomadia, I'll show you."

"Oh, _money,"_ said Trell, rolling his eyes. "I've got more money than I know what to do with. I was thinking favors."

"She won't like that," said Panda.

Trell came to stand in the middle of the living room. He looked over his shoulder at Panda and raised an eyebrow.

"Shockingly, _I'm_ not a fan of having seizures," he said. "Funny, that."

"Fair," said Panda. "Though ideally, that won't be happening."

"Ideally," Trell said dryly. He cast a critical eye around the flat and made a face. "You wouldn't be open to moving that couch off the carpet? Otherwise I can't guarantee I won't vomit all over it, and it's awfully difficult to get carpet clean again."

"Again: you'll have to take it up with Nano," said Panda, moving past him.

"Hm," said Trell, trailing after him. "She had a look at those files yet?"

"No, it's been _rather_ busy," said Panda. "Why are you being so much more of an ass today?"

"Because Fox isn't here," said Trell. "I'm snarking for two."

Panda knocked perfunctorily on the bedroom door and then poked his head in.

"Trell's here," he said.

Lalna was laid out on the bed, one arm still extended with the fingers curled around an invisible wrist. There was a cord running from the back of their neck to Nano's laptop, which was currently in Nano's lap. Lomadia was crouched on the footboard, knees to her chest, wings folded close to her back. From the way she blinked her eyes open when Panda came in, he assumed she'd been napping. Nano still looked somewhat haggard, although certainly more in control of herself than she had been a couple of hours ago.

"Great," she said. "Come on in."

Panda stepped inside, and Trell came after him. He raised an eyebrow as he took in the scene.

"Well _that_ paints a rather vivid picture," he drawled, gesturing to Lalna.

"It . . . wasn't a good time," said Nano. "Thank you. For coming. We really appreciate you taking the time to do this for us."

Trell waved her off. "I'm not doing it for free," he said.

"Understandable," said Nano. "What's your fee? I'm about done with this, we're ready to get started whenever you are."

"The fee is: you help me break into Medical on Wednesday," said Trell.

Nano stared at him. Lomadia halfway rose from her crouch, wings fluffing out. Panda folded his arms.

"You're out of your fucking mind," Nano said.

"All right," said Trell, and turned on his heel.

"Wait, hang on, Trell, don't leave," Panda said, catching him by the arm.

"That's my fee, and if she's not going to pay it, I'm going home," said Trell.

"Knew he couldn't be trusted," Nano muttered.

"Look," said Trell, turning back and shrugging Panda's hand off his arm. "I know Strife's a bastard and you'd kick his head clean off if you had half a chance—so would I, believe me—but I'm still pretty firmly in his pocket, and I've been given a job. There's not a single doubt in my mind that he's got at _least_ two other people working on it and he's _going_ to check our stories against one another, so making shit up or lying to him would be a really _stupid_ idea. I've been shot in the head _three times_ now, which is three more times than I would ever have liked to! So I'll be your robot Life Alert or whatever, but you've got to help me work out everything there is to know about B714-LE. And I don't mean at some indeterminate point in the future, I mean in three days. Deal?"

Nano ground her teeth, her lip trying to curl. She glanced between Lalna and Trell, nostrils flared with deep breaths.

"C'mon, Nano," Panda said. "We can't ask him to do this for free, he's not a—a mule, he's not a machine."

"I am _upset,"_ Nano said, placing each word like a knife upon a countertop, "because that was _also_ the payment that Strife so courteously requested for doing absolutely fucking _nothing_ to help Nilesy."

"See?" said Trell. "Called it. Multiple accounts."

"Maybe you hadn't cottoned on, but this is _somewhat unpleasant_ for us!" Nano snarled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I supposed to give one single fuck about all this shit that's got nothing to do with me?" Trell asked, impertinent. "Sorry, but I've run all out of fucks to give. I'm using mine."

"I might've expected a little common decency!"

"You might think about lowering your expectations, then," Trell shot.

"Stop it," Lomadia said, drawing herself up and spreading her wings. "Stop being horrible."

Trell turned and regarded her critically, folding his arms. "Or what?" he said.

"Or I'll rip your arms off!"

"All right, have a go," said Trell, unconcerned, and returned his attention to Nano. "If you don't like my fees, you haven't got to use my service. I'm not doing this shit for free, especially not when it involves a killer robot!"

"Lal is _not_ a _killer robot!"_ Nano snapped.

"Oh, yeah?" said Trell. "Because last _I_ checked, the L41 project was responsible for the deaths of _well_ over two dozen people. Not all of them Powered."

Nano pulled up short. Panda swallowed, his heart dropping. Lomadia's wings shrank in closer to her and her claws clicked on the headboard.

"It was all over the news at the time," Trell said helpfully.

"That—wasn't them," Nano said. "It—there were two robots. The one that did all the killing, that wasn't Lal."

"And?" said Trell. "They're machines, they do whatever they're programmed to do."

"Not these machines," said Nano.

"Even _better,"_ said Trell, rolling his eyes. "This is how the robot apocalypse starts. You know that, right? This is how it starts. Have they even got the Laws of Robotics in?"

"I'd really appreciate it if you weren't so fucking flippant about our _friend,"_ Panda said. His fingers drifted to the empty space at his hip where a knife should have been. He clenched his fist. "And you can take your Asimov and shove it up your arse."

Trell looked over at him, lips pursed.

"Let me make sure," he said, "I'm reading this situation properly. We've got a YogLabs Board member and her totally-not-killer robot, hanging out with a serial killer and a fellow who's literally stabbed someone to death."

It hit Panda like a punch in the chest. He swallowed and clenched his jaw, determined not to show how accurate of a jab it had been.

"Not to mention," Trell went on, "two Strife Solutions security personnel, one of whom's been kidnapped by, I shit you not, the mutant jellyfish spawn of said YogLabs Board member. And to cap it all off, some poor bastard in said YogLabs Board member's department was brutally murdered and had all his innards scooped out less than a month ago. Have I got all that down properly?"

"You forgot the bit where the second robot that we killed a year ago got stolen," Lomadia said.

"Oh, _brilliant,_ that's the cherry on top I was waiting for!" said Trell. "So the point, yeah, is that you're not _just_ asking me to give you advance notice on if your robot's gone full HAL 9000. You're asking me to get fully submerged in this gigantic mass of _bullshit_ you've been heaping up for years."

"You already stole a bunch of files for us, what the fuck are you having issues _now_ for?" Nano demanded.

"I didn't steal anything," Trell said, supercilious. "I happened to drop my keys where Fox could get to them, and Fox stole a bunch of files. And _that_ was my apology for keeping the mutant jellyfish spawn a secret from you for a couple months. At the moment, I consider us even. I broke into my place of employment as payment to you, so my fee is you helping me break into _your_ place of employment, so that—and I feel I must repeat this— _I don't get shot in the fucking head again."_

"He's got a point," Lomadia said, subsiding back into her crouch. She shook out her wings.

"This—this isn't even _remotely_ fair," Nano said. "We're asking you to have one— _one—_ seizure if something goes wrong. You're asking me to put my fucking _life_ at stake—"

"You're asking me to sit in on the wake-up call for a robot that, by your own admission, went rogue and nearly killed you all."

"I didn't say that," Panda put in. "I just said they got violent."

"Which is bad enough," said Trell. "Now think about this for a second: if the robot wakes up again, and they're still violent, and I'm _present_ for it, who d'you think is going to get their head smashed in first? Me, or any of you? _Either way,_ it's going to be brains all over the walls. The fee's not for the use of my time, the fee's for the _trauma."_

"Lal wouldn't hurt anybody," Panda objected.

"They're not going to smash anyone's head in," Nano said at the same moment.

Trell raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?" he said. He pointed to Nano. "Then what d'you call that?"

Nano looked down and hurriedly clapped her hand over her right wrist.

"They didn't mean to," she said. Her voice shook.

"Oh, well, if they didn't _mean_ to, I s'pose it's all fine, then," said Trell, his lip curling.

"It's just because they had bad stuff in their head," Lomadia said, although she sounded uncertain. "Nano fixed all the bad stuff, so they ought to be fine now."

"I like that _ought to be,_ that's comforting," Trell drawled. "Look, if you wake them up, and nothing _untoward_ happens and I haven't got to pop back, you can buy me a coffee and we'll call it even. But _otherwise,_ you're helping me with the Medical thing. Fair?"

Nano sighed out a long breath through her nose.

"Fair," she said begrudgingly.

"All right then," said Trell. "I'll go on and get set up on the couch. You might want to bring a bucket, I've been known to vomit."

"I recall," Nano said, with a fair bit of nastiness. "Take your time, though, it takes Lalna about forty-five minutes to boot up."

"Oh, fantastic," said Trell. "It could be worse, it could be sixty-five." He looked down at his watch and wrinkled his nose. "Right, it's four twenty-eight. Let's call it four thirty for the reentry, so start booting at four forty-five. And if I _do_ have a seizure, don't do _anything_ until I've told you why. Got it?"

"Sounds fine," Nano said through gritted teeth.

"Great," said Trell. "See you in a couple minutes. Unless I don't."

He walked out. Panda watched him go, somewhere between impressed and insulted.

"He's awfully commanding for a janitor," he said.

 _"Custodian!"_ Trell shouted from the other room.

"Somebody'd better go with him," Nano said.

"Yeah, I'm sure he's planning to nick all your silver while he's here," Panda said, rolling his eye.

 _"Because_ if he _does_ have a seizure, someone should _be there,"_ Nano said, glaring at him like she could set him on fire with her mind.

"Oh," said Panda. "Right."

"I'll go," said Lomadia. She got down off the footboard and went out into the main room after Trell.

"D'you want me to stay?" Panda said. "While you're booting Lal up. In case. . . ."

"It doesn't matter," Nano said, turning her eyes back to her computer. "It'll take forty-five minutes anyway and I won't be starting for fifteen. _Apparently._ You might as well put the kettle on or something."

"What're you going to do?"

"Check my work," Nano sighed. "For the millionth time."

"No harm in it," said Panda. "So long as it doesn't take too long. Apparently timing's pretty important."

"Apparently," Nano said again, her lip curling.

"You're just upset because he's bossier than you," said Panda, smiling to himself.

"I am not— _bossy!"_

"You are a bit."

"I'm intelligent, organized, and capable!"

"And bossy," said Panda.

"You wouldn't be saying that if I weren't a woman."

"I literally just said it about Trell."

Nano glared at him. He shrank, rubbing his arm.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "You're intelligent, organized, and capable, and you're well qualified to be in charge of stuff."

"Thank _you,"_ Nano said primly. "And yes, maybe I _am_ a bit upset because he's bossing me around and I don't like not being the boss."

"Be fair, he did sort of waltz in and—"

_"Nano!"_

Panda kicked off so fast he left a skid mark, tearing into the main room. The fear in Lomadia's voice was unmistakeable. Trell was lying on his side on the couch. His eyes were wide, his face contorted. He wasn't breathing. Lomadia was standing near him, wings flared out wide. Nano dashed into the room after Panda, catching herself on his shoulder.

"Oh, _shit,"_ she said.

"Is it the thing?" Lomadia asked. "Is it—is he—"

Even as she asked, Trell started seizing in earnest. His feet kicked against the arm of the couch, his hands struck his own chest in a sharp and rhythmic tattoo. Somehow his lip had got caught between his teeth, and blood started to leak from the corner of his mouth onto the pillow beneath his head. Profoundly unsettled, squirming from the dreadful implications, Panda found himself paralyzed. He looked to Lomadia, and to Nano, but neither of them seemed to be any more in possession of their faculties than he was.

After far too long, Trell finally subsided, panting. A long string of blood trailed from his lip to the couch. Lomadia, moving hesitantly, took a few tissues from the box on the coffee table and gently wiped it up, taking a knee next to Trell. He moaned, his face twitching at the touch.

"It's okay," Lomadia said softly. "It's okay, you're okay."

Trell mumbled some more. One of his hands grasped at nothing, aimless. Lomadia put a hand on his shoulder and patted him awkwardly.

"You'll be okay," she said. "It's over now."

"This . . . this bit took—about ten minutes, last time," Nano mentioned. "Before he was up and—and talking, again."

"Oh," said Panda. "I—should I just . . . start the kettle going, then?"

"That seems like a solid plan," said Nano. She looked rather dazed. Lomadia was still murmuring comforts to Trell, who was still making distressed sounds.

Panda nodded, then went into the kitchen. He filled the kettle up, found four mugs—there were significantly fewer than he remembered—and started the water heating. As the kettle rumbled up towards full boil, Nano joined him in the kitchen.

"Um," she said.

"Yeah," said Panda.

"So. This is. . . ."

"Not great."

"That. Yes."

They stood awkwardly for a moment. The kettle whistled and Panda poured it out into four empty cups. Belatedly, he turned to Nano and asked, "What sort of tea d'you want?"

"I—fuck me, I dunno," she said, her voice cracking. To his horror, her eyes filled with tears. He hurriedly set the kettle aside as Nano began to crumble.

"Whoah, hey, all right, it's—please don't," he said, torn between trying to comfort her and just getting Lomadia to do it. But that would leave him with Trell, and he wasn't prepared to deal with _that,_ either, and now Nano was starting to sob, her teeth bared and her fists clenched and her eyes squeezed shut, and he had to do _something. . . ._

Carefully, he took her by the shoulders. She grabbed onto him like a bear trap and started sobbing into his shoulder. Panda waved his arms helplessly before settling for patting her on the back.

"Okay," he said. "Okay, c'mon, pull it together, there, boss."

She shook her head, sniffling massively. He winced.

"Nano, seriously," said Panda. "It's—it was only the first time round, it'll be okay. We'll get it this time. We'll even know what went wrong! Nobody's hurt, everybody's okay. Honestly, for real."

She just sniffled again. With a fair bit of awkwardness, she broke off the embrace and stepped back.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm trying."

"It's fine, Nano," said Panda. "Honestly."

She nodded, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. She looked down at the snot on her hand and winced, then snagged a couple of paper towels and clumsily wiped it off both her hand and face.

"We'd . . . we'd probably better talk to Trell," she said damply. "About what went wrong."

"Right," said Panda. "I'll just—I'll just do peppermint tea for everybody, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Nano headed back to the living room, and Panda got the tea started brewing. He brought the cups two by two into the living room, setting all of them down on the coffee table. Trell seemed a little more coherent now—he wasn't sitting up, but his breathing was much more normal. His lower lip was swollen from being bitten so hard.

"Trellimar?" Nano said, perching on the coffee table and leaning in towards him. "Are you . . . all right?"

Trell just groaned in response.

"There's tea," Panda mentioned.

Trell groaned again, but this time made an effort to sit up. Lomadia helped him upright, then propped him up against the back of the couch, fussing with the pillows to keep him balanced.

"Time?" he croaked.

"Er," said Nano, fidgeting. "I'm not totally sure? A couple of minutes, maybe?"

"You've got to keep track," Trell grumbled, his eyes still closed. "Fucking useless."

Panda could _hear_ Nano grinding her teeth. It was a wonder she didn't haul off and slap him.

"Can you at least tell us what went wrong?" she asked.

"Tea first," said Trell, holding out his hand. Panda put a mug of tea in it.

"Still hot," he mentioned.

A minute or two passed while nobody said anything. Trell sipped at his tea. He looked utterly exhausted. Finally, he pried his eyes open, although he kept his gaze lowered.

"I don't know exactly what went wrong," he said. "I'm not good with computers. All I know is, they were mad as hell when they woke up."

"What sort of _mad as hell?"_ Nano asked.

Trell wrinkled his nose. "The sort that involves picking people up by their throats."

"Jesus," Panda muttered, feeling ill. He rubbed his throat and swallowed.

"But did they hurt anyone?" Nano pressed.

"Difficult to say," Trell said, sarcastic. "I didn't stick around after they threw you through the fucking wall. Also: holy shit, they're _horrifyingly_ fast."

There was a moment of silence. Lomadia was rocking side to side, fiddling with the long feathers at the tip her wing.

"Okay," Nano sighed. "I'll—I'll have another go. I've just . . . missed something. Is all. I didn't fix much other than their command priority set, so . . . there must've been something else in there. That I didn't see. It's fine. I'll get it this time."

"You're fucking suicidal," Trell muttered.

Nano got to her feet, taking her cup of tea with her. "I'm doing my best," she said. "And your constant stream of disparaging comments isn't helping."

"If you were—" Trell began, and cut off suddenly.

Panda's heart dropped right into his boots, punching through his stomach to get there. In horror, he watched as Trell's eyes rolled back in his head, his back arched. Panda had just enough presence of mind to take the cup of hot tea out of his hand before he doused himself in it.

"Oh, God, no," Nano muttered.

Panda looked at the clock. It was about ten seconds past the minute. Lomadia got hold of Trell and laid him on his side before he started seizing again. This time she managed to keep his lip out from between his teeth. The seizure lasted two minutes and fifteen seconds, by Panda's count. By the time it stopped, Nano was sitting on the floor with her face buried in her knees. Panda, having nothing better to do, went to look in on Lalna while Lomadia stayed with Trell.

They were still lying on the bed, arm still extended. Their eyes were dark. The cord was still plugged into the back of their neck. Their face was expressionless. Panda dearly wanted to close their eyes—something about the vacant, unblinking stare made his scalp prickle. He went back into the living room. He closed the bedroom door behind him.

Trell was whimpering again, uncoordinated and insensible. Lomadia was petting his hair, murmuring consolations to him.

"Lom, don't touch his hair," Panda said, coming to sit on the coffee table. He was stiff from all the tension. "It's sort of rude to touch a Black person's hair, especially if you're white."

"Oh," said Lomadia. "Sorry." She moved to rubbing his back. Trell's distressed noises were sounding significantly more distressed.

"I can't keep doing this," Nano mumbled, shaking her head. "What're we going to do?"

"I think—maybe for starters, we should just like . . . not do anything at all. For at least an hour," said Panda. "Just because, I dunno, it looks to me like _he_ can't keep doing this, either."

Nano sniffled, saying nothing.

"You'll be okay," Lomadia said to Trell. "We're taking a break now. We'll wait at least an hour before we try again. It's all right."

"Don't," Trell mumbled, shaking his head. "Just—don't. Leave'm. Leave'm off."

Nano curled up even smaller, digging her fingers into her calves. Lomadia was rubbing Trell's shoulder, her mouth drawn into a pitying pout. Panda fidgeted.

"All right," he said. "We'll . . . do that."

Trell made a miserable noise and buried his face in the pillow under his head. He made no further remarks. Panda put his head in his hands and sighed.

"This is so _fucked,"_ he muttered.

* * *

 

"I stayed as long as I could," Trell said. He was sitting up now, and had gone through two cups of peppermint tea. He was working on some dry crackers, and a third cup of tea. "In case I could work out what'd happened. They weren't very talkative, unfortunately."

"So you don't have _any_ idea what went wrong?" Nano asked. Her voice was haggard, to match the expression on her face.

"No," said Trell. "But they did seem to be the most upset at you and Panda. They were very efficient."

"God," Panda said, feeling ill. "Don't tell me they killed us."

"Of course they didn't kill us," Nano snapped.

"I dunno," said Trell. "They were hitting pretty hard. And there was a considerable amount of throat-grabbing."

"Fuck," Nano said, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head.

"Maybe it's because they went to sleep angry," Lomadia said. "They were really upset when Panda turned them off. Maybe they stay upset when they wake up."

"There's got to be something I'm _missing!"_ Nano cried. "Trell, what—what did I do last time? What did I fix?"

"I dunno," Trell said again, more sharply. "You wouldn't tell me, on account of I'm not _trustworthy."_

Nano put her head in her hands. "I'm an idiot," she mumbled.

"Yep," said Trell.

"Shut up," Lomadia snapped, her wings flaring out. "Don't talk to her like that."

Trell rolled his eyes and had another cracker. Panda shook his head. He pulled out his phone on autopilot.

 _You won't believe the shit that's going on now,_ he texted, and hit send.

And remembered, with the sensation of missing a stair in the dark, that Zylus wasn't going to answer.

He swallowed and stuck his phone back in his pocket. He rubbed his eye, sniffed and cleared his throat. Now wasn't the time.

"I'll tell you one thing, I'm not doing this again today," said Trell. "I've had enough. If you're going to try it again, it'll have to wait 'til tomorrow, at the earliest."

"That's probably good anyway," Lomadia said. "Then Nano'll have more time to work out what's wrong."

"Brilliant," Panda mumbled. "Another day of sitting about doing nothing."

"No," Nano said, with an awful finality. "No, I think . . . I think this is the wrong front to be fighting on right now. I think we've got to . . . let this one go. For now."

"But you can't just leave them shut down!" Lomadia objected, distressed. "You've barely even tried anything! We can get it right next time, you can fix them."

She shook her head, drawing herself up.

"We haven't got the time," she said. "I think it'll have to wait. I think—I think we've got to focus on getting Nilesy back, first."

"I'm not helping with that," Trell said. "I'm not helping you break a serial killer out of the loony bin. I draw the line at that."

"Not saying I'm not all for that, but . . . why?" Panda said to Nano. His heart was fluttering, just a little, with something like hope.

"Triage," Nano said. "Essentially. We know where he is. We know he's alive. For—for the time being. That's another part of it, is that—there might be a time limit. But we know what the problem is and there's a clear way to fix it. Lalna . . . Lalna will keep. Nilesy might not."

"Whatever you're doing, it's going to have to wait until after Wednesday," Trell said. "We had a deal."

Nano rubbed her face, sighing. "I know," she said. "I don't . . . think that'll be a problem, honestly. There's plenty of hoops to jump through and my Plan A—well, my Plan A already went tits-up, and Plan B isn't exactly foolproof. It'll take a day, at least."

"What was Plan A?" Panda asked.

"I was going to try and get in to visit him," Nano said. "I called Fair Isle, a few hours after the sentencing. They wouldn't even talk to me. Said only immediate family were authorized to know anything about their patients, including who was even there. Same for visitation."

"That's bullshit," Panda said.

"Yeah," said Nano, "you're telling me."

"So then, what's Plan B?" Lomadia asked.

Nano took a deep breath, swallowed, and set her jaw.

"I'm going to talk to his mother."


	23. Chapter 22

The Peculier Agency for Powered Children was a broad brick building that looked like it had been a school in a previous life. There was a yard with a small playground, a car park, a ratty half-size football field with ratty, half-size goals. The whole thing was bounded by an iron-and-brick fence, although there were colorful balloons tied in several spots along it. Across the street, a cohort of dedicated protestors held large signs with slurs and hateful rhetoric plastered all over them. They were shouting an awful lot, but didn't seem inclined to cross the street. This may have been because of the armed security guards lounging outside the front gate.

The protestors spat abuse at Nano as she entered, but the guards both gave her a courteous nod. There were preschool-aged children out playing in the yard, shrieking and laughing, chasing each other about. One of them had a pair of wings, covered in white down, sprouting from his back. Nano slowed her pace as she walked up to the front doors, watching. Despite the protestors and the austere facade of the building, the children seemed. . . .

Well, _happy._ That gave her some hope.

Inside, there was a front desk, although Nano had to ring the bell three times to get anybody to show up. She explained her appointment, and was sent off with directions. For the most part, the inside of the building was quiet, which was sensible for midmorning on a Tuesday. There were a few areas where she could hear voices through the doors—lectures, it sounded like—but she encountered very few people. She made her way to the back of the building and up a couple of flights of stairs, then down a corridor to a corner office. The door was standing open.

Nano swallowed and wiped her hands on her trousers. Hesitantly, she stepped up to the door and peered inside.

There was a desk, a computer, and a woman. She was white, in her mid-fifties, with graying blonde hair and a small pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She was well-dressed, and her workspace was neat and tidy. Her fingernails were painted lavender and she was drumming them on the desk. She was frowning at the computer, her cupid's-bow lips twisted into an expression of frustration and distaste. Nano knocked.

"Dr. Peculier?" she said.

The woman at the desk looked up. Her eyes were a bright, clear, emerald green, embedded in wrinkles and crow's feet. She turned and sat up in her chair, smiling at Nano.

"Ah, you must be Dr. Sounds," she said. "Come in, please."

Nano entered, and she got up and stuck out a hand, which Nano shook. Dr. Peculier's grip was firm, her hand warm. Both of them sat down.

"You didn't mention in your email where you were coming from. . . ?" Dr. Peculier prompted.

"Um—well, that's mainly because it's not . . . strictly speaking . . . official business," Nano said, doing her best not to fidget.

Dr. Peculier raised her eyebrows. "More interesting every second. I assume you don't, then, have any interest in adopting."

"Not—not today, no," said Nano. "And I'm not . . . um, dropping anyone off, either."

Dr. Peculier tipped her head to the side, the _right_ side, a perfect mirror of the puzzled gesture Nilesy and Lalna shared. Nano's lungs refused to inflate for a moment.

_"Curioser and curioser,_ cried Alice," Dr. Peculier said. "All right, then. What _can_ I help you with?"

Nano took a deep breath. She bit her lip, swallowed, and spoke as gently as she could.

"It's about Liam," she said.

It was like someone had flipped a switch. Isabel Peculier aged twenty years in an instant. She shut her eyes, pinched her lips together, let out a shuddering breath.

"So," she said. "You've found him, then. Seventeen years too late, but I suppose it's better than nothing."

"In . . . a manner of speaking," said Nano, intensely uncomfortable.

"Oh, God," Dr. Peculier muttered, putting her head in her hands. "Just—just tell me there's enough to bury. Anything's better than an empty casket." She looked up at Nano, and there were tears in her eyes. "Well? Go on. Give me all the gory details."

"Dr. Peculier," Nano said, "Liam—Liam isn't dead."

Dr. Peculier went absolutely rigid. Her face turned to stone, her eyes to green fire.

"Do you have any _proof_ of this claim?" she demanded, her voice sharp-edged and shaking.

"Did you watch the Fisherman trial?"

"What has that got to do with _anything?"_

"Because the Fisherman _is_ Liam. Or—one of Liam's alters."

"Get out of my office."

"Dr. Peculier, _please,_ just—here, look, I've got a picture." She pulled out her tablet, woke it up, and pushed it across the table. She'd had a screencap of Nilesy from the trial proceedings ready for just this situation. "It was taken four days ago."

Dr. Peculier barely glanced at it. "That could be anyone," she snapped, shoving the tablet back at Nano.

"But it _isn't_ anyone, it's your _son,"_ Nano retorted. "And he needs your help!"

"I don't know what _sick_ sense of humor brought you in here," Dr. Peculier hissed, leaning over the desk, "but if you value your _life,_ Dr. Sounds, it will carry you right back out again."

Nano gawped at her for a moment. She snatched up her tablet and stuffed it back in her bag. She fumbled out a business card and put it on the desk.

"There's my number," she said, "if you change your mind."

Dr. Peculier said nothing. Nano gulped, and scurried out of the room before the woman ripped her spine out through her chest.

* * *

 

Rather than going home, tempting as that was, Nano headed back to YogLabs and locked herself in her office. There was plenty of work that demanded her attention, including a rather sizable backlog. She shunted off as much of it as she could onto other people and added the rest to a To-Do list that she was absolutely certain she was never going to look at. She had a lot of catching up to do, and very little time in which to do it. Before she got started, though, she checked her phone. There was a text from Lomadia.

_Lalna tried to wake up again (8ish) so I pushed the button again and they went back to sleep like you said._

Nano pursed her lips and typed out a quick reply.

_Thank you, sweetheart. If you need Panda to keep an eye on them while you sleep, I'm sure he'd be happy to._

Lomadia didn't reply, so perhaps she'd already thought of that. On the other hand, perhaps Lalna had rebooted and thrown her through the wall.

While Nano was worrying about it, her phone buzzed in her hand. She nearly dropped it in alarm. There was a text from Lomadia.

_Good idea. He's still asleep but if he's not up by the time I go to bed I'll make him do it._

With her fears thus assuaged, Nano got down to business.

First, she hunted up the full autopsy for the murdered man. Its findings were not startlingly different from the initial assessment, but did include some interesting details. Walter Cornish, apparently, had not been killed by the blow to the back of the neck, but rather paralyzed by it. High levels of cortisol in the brain indicated that he'd been intensely stressed. High levels of hydromorphone in what little blood he had left indicated that he had most likely been drugged and vivisected. Since the kidneys and liver were missing, it was difficult to tell what dosage had been administered over what length of time. The heart and lungs had likewise been removed, along with every single other internal organ, most of the lymph nodes, the scalp, the skin and musculature of the face, the teeth, and the tongue.

The sternum had been cracked in half by a single strike, perhaps with a hammer, and the ribcage pried open with such force that the ribs had snapped in half and stabbed into the surrounding flesh. Deep scoring had been found on the cracked portion of the sternum, indicating that something metal had been jammed into the breach to pry the chest cavity open.

Nano had to take a moment after reading that. The sheer brutality of the whole affair was setting in heavy, and she was having trouble keeping her breakfast down. She could almost hear the bones snapping, could almost smell the blood. For some reason her mind kept putting Ridge's face on Walter Cornish's eviscerated body. In the end, she returned to the autopsy report because no matter _what_ she did, she couldn't stop _imagining._

The cause of death was listed as exsanguination; he'd bled to death while they cut his insides out. The surgical precision of the paralytic blow, in addition to the quality of the surgery itself and the use of hospital-grade opiates, suggested a medical professional had been responsible for—or at least involved in—the crime.

They'd also found graphite dust inside the abdominal cavity and nitric acid residue in the mouth. Nano had no idea what that could mean.

Next, she checked the inventory list for the storage room where they'd found Dr. Cornish. It was over twenty pages long, but she read every entry meticulously. When she was halfway through, she sent off a quick email to Bates and Hazell asking if another inventory had been conducted post-murder. By the time she got to the end of the list, Bates had responded.

 

_Hi Dr. Sounds,_

_Yes, actually, Shichun had us take an inventory as soon as all the blood was cleaned up. He figured somebody would want to know if anything had gone missing. I've attached it for you._

_Let me know if you need anything else!_

_Thanks,_

_Alex_

 

Nano opened up that list, too, and made side-by-side comparisons. Her vision was starting to blur, her eye starting to water, but she forged ahead. Neither document made mention of any L41 robots or parts, corroborating what Lalna had said about Lalnable not being on the log sheet. It took her almost two hours of poring over the two documents to spot the difference.

The original list was nine hundred and eighty-two items long. The updated list was nine hundred and eighty- _three._

By then her hands were shaking, her head fogged with exhaustion, but there was a quickening in her blood that told her she was onto something. Another forty-five minutes of combing through the inventories finally found her the odd item out.

_Wide mouth glass jar, 1.000 mL, plastic lid. Dirty._

Nano was on her feet almost before she'd finished reading the entry. She snagged her keys and headed for the door, but was arrested by a sudden rush of dizziness and a wave of sparks swarming her vision. She put a hand on her desk and stood still until her vision cleared. To underscore the point, her stomach gurgled unhappily. She was still thoroughly sickened from the autopsy report, but her hands were shaking so hard it had gone all the way up to her shoulders, and her knees had turned to jelly, so she tottered off to the nearest vending machines and got two little bags of trail mix and a soda, then found an unoccupied break room to sit down and eat in.

Things were starting to come together. If nothing was missing from the storage room, that meant the murderer must have taken Walter Cornish's assorted bits out in their own containers—glass jars seemed like just the sort of thing to use. They must have brought said containers in with them, and taken them out without being seen. Somehow they must have cleaned all of the blood off of themselves, and hidden the gory fruits of their labor in such a way as to not draw attention. A janitor's cart, maybe, or something similar, could have done the trick. Then there was the question of the killer or killers themselves—how had they managed to sneak in and out without attracting any attention at all? Certainly, it had been the middle of the night, and most people hadn't been around, but YogLabs was never truly _deserted,_ as evidenced by the existence of people like Walter Cornish, who liked to work the night shift. There were janitors, security guards, midnight scientists and programmers and early-birds and a whole _contingent_ of people who should have noticed _something_ amiss. And yet, nobody had. The killer must have gotten past the fence or security, and then all the way through the RMB building to the storage room, and then all the way back out, without anybody even _once_ remarking upon them as being out of place. It seemed incredible. Either the killer was a magician, or they were a YogLabs employee.

Or a shapeshifter, but that was a stupid cop-out answer and she refused to consider it until absolutely _everything_ else had been ruled out. There had to be better explanations. She had to believe there were better explanations, otherwise her odds of ever catching the culprit dwindled to almost none.

She considered the possibility that it had been Specimen Five. After all, she was the one who had wrought such havoc on Lalna's systems, by her own admission. She must have been the one to tamper with the video files in the first place. She must, in some way, have been involved—but Nano was hard-pressed to think of a way she could have pulled the whole thing off. It might explain the nitric acid in Walter Cornish's mouth. Nitric was what oozed out of Nano's skin, and it certainly wouldn't have been surprising to know that Five shared the trait. It was also possible that she could have gotten into YogLabs on the strength of having a (ruinous, gross, disgusting) facsimile of Nano's own face and voice, possible she could have used her evident expertise to craft herself a counterfeit keycard to get into the building, but _then_ what? If she was as blind as she appeared to be, she must have had help, in some form or another. Besides, even Nano couldn't have mustered the precision and force necessary to snap someone's neck like Walter Cornish's. She certainly would have needed help getting the assorted stolen organs and robot parts back out of the building—assuming she had stolen both, which seemed likely, although it wasn't necessarily the case. But how could she have gotten an entire accomplice in and out without anybody _noticing?_

Nano paused, halfway through a sip of soda. She frowned, thinking back as hard as she could.

Had Walter Cornish been naked, on that slab in Medical? She thought he had. Bebop had said that the body had come in _like that,_ but she'd assumed he was referring to the state of evisceration alone. If it was the case that Walter Cornish had been stripped naked and operated upon—which would have been the logical procedure—then where were his clothes? His lab coat had been missing from his lab come morning, so his coworkers had said, which had tipped them off that something was amiss. So where was it now? And the rest of his clothes. . . .

Nano shook her head. It made no sense to change into a dead man's clothes—why wouldn't Five and her accomplice have brought their own set of spares? They'd probably bagged up the clothes and thrown them away somewhere. If they'd managed not to get them bloody, they would have attracted absolutely no attention. She sipped her soda. There were too many clues here, was the problem. There were too many clues pointing in too many different directions and she had no idea which way they were supposed to be going.

_"Vimes hated clues,"_ she mumbled to herself. "Amen to that."

And of course, now she was going to go down to the storage room and look for _even more_ of the damn things.

Nano finished her soda, but spent another few minutes sitting there, thinking. What was she looking for, really? What was she hoping to find down there? What could a one-liter glass jar possibly tell her? The place had already been scoured for fingerprints, doubtless—and even if it hadn't, everything had been cleaned up, according to Bates, so any lingering evidence had likely been obliterated. She might do better going to see Nysira again, checking the other security cameras in the vicinity to see if they'd caught anything useful. She might do _much_ better looking into the data about Specimen Five. The murder was unrelated, and she was getting sidetracked because it was exciting and it felt like she was actually making progress for once. . . .

Nano shook herself. She got up, tossed out her trash, and started for the storage room again. She had a feeling—intuition, or perhaps instinct—that what she was doing was _important._ Somehow, some way, the murder of Walter Cornish had _everything_ to do with the subsequent attacks on Nano's friends and family. She was certain that this was the keystone of the whole affair, that without it anything she tried to construct would fall apart. She just hadn't quite got hold of it yet.

Making her way down to the storage room, she passed a good number of people in the corridors. Most of them kept their eyes straight ahead, not looking at her, their steps quick and deliberate. A few of them made accidental eye contact and flashed awkward smiles, ducking their heads. She wondered if the avoidance was because she was intimidating in her own right, or because Xephos had set a precedent for how the head of Section L dealt with people bothering him.

She hoped it was the former. She suspected it was the latter. She was beginning to see how Specimen Five might have managed to walk the halls completely unremarked, if people refused to look at her as much as they were refusing to look at Nano.

The storage room was locked with a padlock, a large sign affixed to the door reading _DECOMMISSIONED._ She tried all the keys on her keyring, but none of them fit the padlock. She ground her teeth in frustration—now she'd have to go find someone who knew who had the key, and then go find _that_ person and convince them to _give_ her the key, and waste another hour at least. . . .

Nano glanced up and down the corridor. She was alone. She looked around until she found the security camera that pointed at the door.

_Sorry,_ she mouthed at it, wincing.

Then she turned and pinched the metal loop the padlock was threaded through, and squeezed until Power bubbled out through her fingertips and the metal hissed and spat and ran through her fingers. She let go hurriedly and stuffed the padlock into her pocket, sheepishly trying to smear out the fizzing mess on the floor with the toe of her shoe. Recognizing this as a fruitless enterprise, she instead took hold of the door handle and heaved it open.

The storage room was dark, and Nano ducked inside quickly. It smelled overpoweringly of bleach. She fumbled around until she found a light switch and flipped it. A few fluorescent lights flickered on overhead, illuminating a mess of shelves. There were drawers and boxes, bottles and bags, and no apparent systematic organization of any of it. Nano cast a despairing eye over the room.

"It's only nine hundred and eighty-three things, Nano," she muttered under her breath. "You'll find one stupid jar in no time."

She started with a cursory examination of the shelves, just in case the jar was sitting out where it could be easily spotted. She did her best not to touch anything, lamenting her carelessness in not bringing a pair of gloves with her. She could have gone back for them, but the longer the room spent unlocked, the more likely it was someone would notice it and start asking questions. She would just take care not to touch anything whenever it was avoidable.

After the first cursory search turned up nothing, Nano started peeking in drawers and opening boxes. She wondered, as she did so, how the jar could possibly have ended up inside something if the killer had brought it in with them—surely if they'd had the forethought to hide it, they would've just taken it out with them. She could only imagine the jar was a result of a careless mistake, something left behind by accident rather than on purpose. Still, she checked inside all the drawers, and all the boxes, and then finally all the bags. She was sweaty, and dusty, and frustrated, and no matter where she looked, she _could not find that damn jar._

Eventually, she sat down on the floor and leaned up against the wall, exhausted. Maybe somebody had removed the jar. Maybe it had been collected as evidence. Maybe it had been put on the inventory by mistake, and there was no such object in the room. She let her head tip back against the wall, eyes closed, and sighed.

"Useless," she muttered to herself. "Stupid useless bullshit. What're you trying to _find,_ Nano? Get back to work, there's shit to do."

Still, she sat there for another minute or so, unable to heave herself to her feet. Her eyes drifted open, and she stared up at the ceiling, unfocused. There was so much to be done, so much _she_ had to do. There was Lalna to fix, _somehow,_ and Medical to break into, _somehow,_ and Nilesy to rescue and Rythian to find and Specimen Five to stop, _somehow, somehow, somehow. . . ._

Slowly, Nano became aware of a glint from between her eyelashes. She opened her eyes all the way, staring.

Sitting on the very top of one of the shelves, eight feet off the ground and well beyond her normal peripheral vision, was a wide mouth glass jar with a plastic top. Nano stared at it for a good three seconds, torn between frustration and vindication.

"Stupid _tall people,"_ she muttered at last, and heaved herself to her feet.

She had to climb up the shelves themselves to actually get at the jar, perpetually terrified that the whole unit was going to come crashing down on top of her, but eventually she was standing with her feet on the floor and the jar in her hands, squinting in the dim fluorescent light.

It was, for the most part, unremarkable. The glass was grimy, brownish, perhaps having held some iron compound. It was certainly empty now, save for the residue. She turned it over in her hands, looking for identifying marks or labels. She found faint evidence of writing on the plastic lid. Nano peered at it, then brought it over into the light and peered at it some more. It looked like permanent marker that had been cleaned off, but not quite thoroughly enough. She turned the jar this way and that, until the light hit it just right and she could make out what had been written.

_B714-LE #59_

_27-6-35 SJR_

Nano stood and stared. She felt as though if she moved, if she so much as breathed, she would slip a domino out of place and the whole chain would fail to fall.

_SJR_ would be Steven James Ridge. The former head of Medical, who could assign project designations, who worked personally on this project. A project that Strife had stolen—or perhaps been _allowed_ to steal—without knowing its origins. A project that miraculously healed even severe injuries in minutes, with only physical exhaustion as its price.

_It's called hypermitosis._

Late June, two years ago.

Sixty-five screw-top glass jars.

"Ell-ee," Nano whispered to herself, sick and shaking and crawling all over. She should have seen it months ago. She should have known from the first injection.

_Elly._

But the dominoes weren't done falling yet, and Nano could only hang on as they spelled out their dreadful conclusion. Two dead robots had been put into the storage room, and both were missing. Lalna used graphite lubricants in their joints. They were strong enough to throw a person through a wall, certainly strong enough to crack a sternum in half, precise enough to paralyze a man with a single strike. Something metal, jammed into the crack, shattering force and clinical brutality. The brain and eyes had not been stolen because _they weren't necessary._

Lalna reaching into their own hollow chest, methodical, effortless, still functioning after a cataclysmic power overload. An electrical shock that hadn't even killed Zylus. Automatic reboot within six hours. Conversions between electrical and chemical energy. Vanishing laboratory supplies. Bumps in the night. Missing organs. A missing lab coat. A missing robot. A serum that could grow back flesh.

The accomplice hadn't just walked out wearing Walter Cornish's clothes. _Lalnable_ had walked out _wearing his body._

Nano set the jar down, and walked to the nearest bathroom, and threw up everything in her stomach.


	24. Chapter 23

There was a quiet knock at the door. Five stretched, pushing the night's stiffness from her back and arms.

"Come in," she said. Her voice was gummy with sleep. She yawned.

The door opened, and there was a creaking of floorboards as Lalnable slipped in. She pretended to be surprised when he leaned over her and kissed her forehead. She reached up and looped her arms around his neck, keeping him from straightening back up again. The twin red smears of his eyes glowed down at her from the gloom.

"Hi," he said.

"Mm, hi," she said. "You could've turned the lights on."

"Did you want me to?"

She pulled herself up and kissed him, then subsided back onto the bed. "Unless you're planning on being here for a while. What time is it?"

"Nine thirty, or so. I'll go and turn them on if you'll let me go."

"I'm not letting you go. Turn them on anyway."

"All right," he said amiably. He straightened up and she tightened her grip on him. He looped an arm under her thighs, casual, and propped her on his hip like a laundry basket as he went back and flicked on the lights. He turned his head and kissed her again. "Not that I wasn't planning on staying."

"You could've mentioned that first," she told him.

"Maybe I just like carrying you about."

She kicked him in the thigh. "Unless you're going to carry me to breakfast or back to bed, put me down."

"What about both?" He leaned in and kissed her neck, and she gave his ponytail a friendly yank.

"Depends on the order," she said. "And whether you're going to tell me why you came in here to wake me up in the first place."

"Mm, can I go on—" a quick kiss on her collarbone— "carrying you while I do?"

_"Fine,"_ she said, rolling her eyes so hard it tipped her whole head back. He took the opportunity to kiss her neck some more, as she'd hoped he would. He opened the door and carried her out into the main part of the house, despite the fact that she was still naked.

"I've come up with a possible solution for your, ah, request," he mentioned, taking her to the kitchen.

"Which one?" said Five.

"Well, a couple of them, but I was thinking of the Rythian one first and foremost."

"Yeah?" said Five. "All right, let's hear it."

"It _might_ require a bit of blood donation on your part."

"Oh," Five breathed, as the idea presented itself to her, as well. "Oh, _Boss,_ that's _horrific._ D'you think it'll work?"

"With enough serum, it might," he said. "If it doesn't, it's unlikely to kill him, anyway. Worth a shot, at least."

She kissed his cheek. "You really are brilliant," she told him.

"Why thank you," he said, pleased. "I think it'll mesh rather well with that _other_ idea I had for him."

Five shivered. "That's twice as horrific," she said, grinning. "I love it."

He brought her into the kitchen and set her down on the counter, leaving her with a kiss.

"I thought we'd get started once we're at the new base," he said, bustling about. Five leaned back on her hands and kicked her feet, listening to him rifling through the fridge and pantry, putting the kettle on, starting up the stove and cracking some eggs.

"That late?" she asked.

"Well," said Lalnable, and he sounded uncomfortable. He'd turned his face away from her, she could tell by the slight attenuation of his voice. "We've got to go soon, anyway."

_"Ugh,"_ said Five. "I'll have to learn the whole thing, though."

"Then I'd think the sooner the better," he said. He touched her thigh, absently. "Wouldn't want you running into walls on the big day."

"I don't run into walls," Five snapped.

"Sorry," he said. He kissed her again. She allowed it for an apology. "Still. The more time you've got to learn the place, the better. And we haven't got a _tremendous_ abundance of time, if we're going to do it on Eurovision like you wanted."

"We are," said Five. She sighed. "All right. How're we getting there? And how're we getting Rythian there?"

"You know, I thought it might be fun to steal one of Strife's fancy jets," he said.

Five cackled. "Are we stealing the pilot, too?"

"I don't think so. Unless you'd like to. We could throw them out with a camera and watch them all the way down."

"Mm, tempting. But it might draw some attention. So might the plane, actually."

"I'm sure you can make it untraceable," he said. "Or I can, if you'd like. Or we could take the pilot and send them back home and then blow up the engines over the Bermuda Triangle."

"I'll think about it," said Five. "And Rythian?"

"The House Blend has been working out fantastically so far," said Lalnable. She could hear the smile in his voice.

"And you're going to have him on it for sixteen hours?"

"I can make it work," he said. "Besides, then if we get bored—"

She kicked him. He laughed.

"We'll have to get supplies and things," she said.

"Oh no, it's fully stocked," he said. "I've been setting it up for ages. Requisitioned it, just like this place. I just didn't have much of a use for it until you came along. All we'll _really_ have to move is the serum, and that's not terribly bulky."

"Good!" she said. "Why were you setting it up, anyway?"

"So I'd have a proper lab," said Lalnable. "This place was never going to cut it long-term. It worked as an initial base of operations, but I was always a bit concerned Nano would look into who'd snapped up her old lab."

"Hence laying the super obvious trap, so they wouldn't come looking," said Five.

"Not until after we'd gone, anyway," said Lalnable. "Lalna might still turn up at some point, although we'll be long gone. I'm not entirely sure it was necessary, to be perfectly honest. She never checked, in all this time. Fortunately, she's as stupid as she is cruel."

Five giggled. "Fortunately," she said. "And besides, I don't think I ever would've found you if you hadn't been here. I might've just ended up under YogLabs, if somebody else had been here."

"True," said Lalnable. He came over and kissed her again, then tended to the kettle just as it started to whistle. "A useful base overall, but hardly _fitting_ for the rulers of the world."

"That's also true," she said. "What about my bird? Are we taking care of her before we leave?"

"Mmmm, probably ought to," said Lalnable. "I _did_ say I'd find a way to get her for you."

"And?"

"An opportunity might arise soon," he said. "Depending on how their plans to rescue my brother go."

"Which brother?"

"I've only got the one."

"Oh, _right._ What's the plan?"

He told her while he fixed her tea—two sugars, no milk—and she made a face.

"Could use some shoring up," she said. "There's a few holes in it."

"Here's your tea," he said. She reached out a hand and he put the cup in it. "I'd be more than happy to have your input."

"You can give _me_ some input, if you know what I mean," Five said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Heyo," said Lalnable, grinning. Five took a slow sip of her tea, letting the warmth drizzle down into her.

"How _is_ Rythian, anyway?" she asked. "Last time you spent the night with him, he wouldn't eat his breakfast and nearly took my fingers off."

"The breakfast is probably because I fed him last time," said Lalnable. "The fingers were probably because he's a vicious little bastard. But right now he's . . . calm."

"Drugged?"

"No, nothing that fun. He's been boring all morning."

"Aww, did you break him?" she asked, pouting and kicking her feet. He caught her ankle and fixed his gaze on her. She grinned at him.

"I may have worn him out," Lalnable said. "I'm saving the breaking for later."

"You're always saving things for later. It's no fun."

"You're more than welcome to have a go," he said.

"Not until I've had my breakfast," she said. "Speaking of which, aren't those eggs getting cold?"

"I was letting the cheese melt."

_"Could_ I please have my eggs? Whether the cheese is melted or not?"

"I could allow it," he said. He kissed her, gave her ankle a friendly squeeze, then moved off. Five held out her free hand, and presently there was a plate of eggs in it. Carefully, she got down off the kitchen counter and moved to the table. Lalnable gave her a fork and a kiss on the head, then sat down next to her, casually looping an arm around her waist.

"So," she said, around a mouthful of eggs, "here's all the reasons your Lomadia-plan won't work. . . ."

* * *

 

Rythian was asleep when she went down to give him his breakfast—she could tell because he didn't react when she opened the door. She came and stood next to his table for a little while, listening to him breathe, studying the vague blur of his body. He was noticeably skinnier than when he'd come in, even though it had only been ten days. Clearly their amusements were taking a toll on him, beyond the obvious psychological one.

Five woke him up with a brisk slap across the face. He tried to bolt upright and promptly choked himself—it was astonishing and delightful that he hadn't learned not to do it yet.

"Wakey wakey, sleepy head!" she sang, and giggled. "I've brought you breakfast. Drugged nutritional mush, your favorite."

Rythian's head thunked back onto the table and he let out a quiet groan. Five affected a pitying pout.

"Poor thing," she said. "The boss has had you up all night again, hasn't he. Tsk tsk. Don't worry, you can stay in and sleep all day."

She hefted up the plastic bag of drugged nutritional mush.

"Wait!" he blurted.

Five licked her lips and leaned back on her heels.

"Hmmmm?" she said.

"I—before you—can we . . . can we talk?" he asked— _pleaded._ Five couldn't have stifled her grin and didn't try.

"Talk about what, sweetheart?" she asked, leaning her elbows on the table and depositing the bag of mush on his chest.

"A-anything," he said. "Anything, I just . . . I just. . . ."

"Mm-hm?" she said, drawing circles on his stomach with one finger, feeling him wriggle at the unwanted touch.

"Your—your boss," he said. "Do you . . . know what he does? When you're not watching? When—I meant, when you're not—"

He broke off, going limp with resignation. Five gave him a reassuring pat.

"No no, keep going, you had it," she said. "What _does_ my boss do when I'm not supervising?"

Rythian didn't answer. She could just barely make out that he'd shut his eyes.

"Aww, I'm sorry," she said. "Did I chuck a wrench in your genius plan to drive a wedge between us?"

"Just get on with it," he said, his voice flat and dead.

Five took the bag of mush off his chest and set it on the floor, having no intention of _getting on with it_ for some time yet. She put a hand on Rythian's cheek. He didn't try to pull away, even when she stroked his skin with her thumb.

"Poor thing," she crooned. "It must be so hard, being so stupid. And not even pretty to make up for it. At least you've got a nice screaming voice, so that's something."

She ran her thumb along his lips, back and forth, feeling his breath on her skin. He didn't respond, so she kept talking.

"I heard you've been using—"

The _snap_ of Rythian's teeth was accompanied by a horrific crunch and an explosion of pain. Five yanked her hand back, crying out. Blood spattered on the floor. Her whole hand was a red mass of agony. Rythian spat and something hit Five in the stomach.

"Don't _fucking_ touch me!" he snarled. Her blood was red on his face.

Five threw herself on him, screaming. She grabbed his face in both hands and bashed his head into the table, once, twice, three times. He was screaming now, too. His flesh boiled under her hands. The pain would not stop. There was blood everywhere. The smell of iron and acid thickened the air like smoke. Rythian thrashed underneath her. One of his eyes split open like an egg yolk.

There was a thunderous sound. The door crashed open.

_"Five!"_ Lalnable roared.

"I'll kill him! I'll _kill_ him!" He was still thrashing, screaming. Her hands had reached bone.

Lalnable moved so fast he _vanished._ Hot hands grabbed her arms, too hard, and flung her back. The floor hit her hard. Something _cracked_ and pain shot through her left arm. She scrambled to get her bearings, lost, dizzy. Lalnable came for her like a freight train. The massive hand closed on her throat. She grabbed his wrist. Blood was still pouring from her thumb. Numbness was trickling down her other arm. The pain was overwhelming. He lifted her up and up and up.

"Okay!" she squeaked. His eyes blazed like red suns. "Okay, shh, easy, easy there, big guy. You'll overheat, easy, take it _easy."_

Lalnable stared at her, wordless. His hand was as hot as sun-drenched iron. Rythian was still screaming.

"It's all okay, Boss," Five crooned. She stroked the inside of his forearm, fighting through the pain. "Just put me down. It's _all_ okay."

There was one more moment of absolute stillness, and then he dropped her. She landed hard, falling onto her rear. She scuttled back until she found a wall, then felt her way to the nearest cabinet. From the sound, she was somewhere at the back of the lab, near the refrigerators. The cabinet had a big **#8** on the top drawer, which meant she was a bit to the left of Rythian's table. Shakily, she got to her feet, cradling her bleeding hand to her chest, holding her broken arm stiffly.

Lalnable came back, and she flinched when he grabbed her wrist. Something cold mashed against the worst of the pain, and then there was a sharp prick. Five held still while the serum knitted her thumb back on, until the pain subsided and Lalnable let go of her. He moved away again immediately, brusque and businesslike. Five sat back down.

The timbre and pitch of Rythian's screaming changed a few times, more and less interspersed by gasping, and finally went quiet. For a time, there was only his labored breathing, the hum and whirr of the machines, the white noise of the HVAC system.

"Five," Lalnable said quietly.

"He bit my fucking finger off," she snapped.

"I saw," he said. "I'm sorry that I hurt you."

She took a deep breath and shrugged with one shoulder. She pretended she wasn't still shaking.

"Good," she said. "You should be." Then, after another pause: "I'm sorry I tried to kill him."

"He _did_ bite your finger off," Lalnable allowed.

"Is he. . . ?"

"In shock, at the moment."

"Oh."

"But whole. I'll have to pull some teeth and regrow them, and it might take a bit more to get his eye back in order, but it shouldn't be an issue."

"Right." She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"I really am sorry, Five."

"I s'pose that was your Lalna-programming kicking in?" she asked airily. Pain was filling up her left arm, swelling it up like a balloon.

"I think so."

"And you're _sure_ you don't want me to fix it?"

He hesitated. That was a good sign. She flexed her thumb, making sure everything had reconnected properly.

"If it happens again," he said. "If I can't handle it on my own. Then yes. I don't want to hurt you again, whatever that takes."

Carefully, Five made her way over to him. She laid a hand on his arm and felt him flinch, however slightly, from the touch.

"Hey, it could've been worse," she said. "You could've just blown my head off."

"That . . . was the optimal solution," he said, fidgeting.

"Thanks for not taking it," she said dryly. "I think you broke my fucking arm, though."

"Where?" he asked, with that particular half-and-half of curiosity and concern that was so terribly endearing.

"Left humerus, when I hit the floor."

"Should I—"

"Yes, I think you should."

A few minutes and a couple of injections later, the pain in her arm had faded to a dull ache. Lalnable stepped away and took his hands off of her, downcast.

"I really am sorry," he said.

"It's not like it was _completely_ your fault," she said. "Bad code, and all that."

He didn't say anything. She linked her arm with his and leaned her head on his biceps.

"Will Lalna be like that?" she asked softly.

"I don't know," he said. "Ideally, we won't have to find out."

"If we do?"

Before he could answer, Rythian whimpered and his attention was drawn away.

"I can take care of feeding him today," he mentioned. "If you've had enough of him."

"Little shit doesn't deserve to eat," Five snarled. "Ought to leave him tied down to piss himself, too."

"Five," Lalnable said, disapproving.

"He bit my fucking _finger_ off, Boss!"

"We're _evil,_ Five, we're not _barbarians._ There's no reason to get unsanitary."

"Oh, sure, because all this blood is perfectly clean."

He bent down and kissed her head.

"It is," he said, his voice gone soft. "Clean and pure and very lovely. . . ."

"Ugh, whatever," said Five, shrugging out of his grasp. "He's all yours. Have him."

"Do you still want me to—"

"I don't caaaaaare!" she sang. She stalked to the stairs and out of the room, rubbing her thumb. Mentally, she added Rythian to the list of people she was going to murder as gruesomely as possible.

It was a rather long list.

* * *

 

Five spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon putting the finishing touches on her farewell gift for Strife Solutions. Mr. Strife had been a very busy little bee for the past few months, but all his defenses were pointed in the wrong direction. She'd considered blowing up or burning down the building, but neither one had the sort of vicious symmetry she craved. What she had in mind was significantly more tortuous, although the gratification would be delayed because of that. It would also serve as a test run for her magnum opus, which was sorely needed.

Lalnable, for his part, spent the day bustling around packing things. She got the feeling he'd had a departure date picked out far in advance and had simply neglected to tell her about it. She ignored him as hard as she possibly could, in the hopes that it would upset him. Much to her annoyance, he didn't seem to notice.

Eventually, though, he came up behind her and set a plate of lasagna and green beans on her desk, leaning over to kiss her on the top of the head.

"You've forgotten to eat again," he said.

"I was working," she said. She picked up the plate and pulled it into her lap. Something small and warm bounced off her leg, and she realized that the green blur next to the lasagna was peas, not green beans.

"I know," said Lalnable, handing her a fork. "That's why I didn't interrupt you. But you _have_ got to eat."

"I'm eating," she said, annoyed.

He didn't say anything else, and neither did she, until she'd finished her dinner and set the plate aside.

"How long have you been planning on leaving tomorrow?" she asked.

Lalnable sagged. He sighed.

"I've had it set up for a couple of months," he admitted. "And it's not _tomorrow,_ it's Saturday."

"And why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"It didn't occur to me," he said, shrugging. "I'm sorry."

"It didn't _occur_ to you to tell me when we were leaving," she sneered. "It didn't _occur_ to you that I might like to know?"

"No," he said, with absolute candor. "I really am sorry."

"All right, in the _future,_ whenever you've got something big planned out, tell me. Like, as soon as you pick a day. Better yet, tell me _before_ you pick a day so I can have some _input."_

He kissed her head again. "I'll give you some input, if you like."

She reached up and hit him, almost as hard as she could. "Not the time," she snapped.

"Sorry," he said again, pouting. The strike couldn't possibly have hurt him, but he still sounded wounded. "I'll remember that for next time."

"Good," she said. She got up out of her chair and stretched, stiff from being sat down all day. "Now. I've got our little present for Strife all set up. Did you put the tanks in already?"

"I did," he said. "Shall we do it tonight? To cheer you up?"

"My _cheering up_ is getting my bird," said Five.

"The two might go together. I've got her work schedule, you can pick a day you like."

"Sure, I'm spoiled for choice, out of the next _five days."_

"You're very upset with me, but it was an honest mistake. I've said I'm sorry, and I won't do it again."

She rolled her eyes. _"Fine,_ I forgive you. But I don't think she's going to be at work, and even if she was, I don't want to set off our little surprise on her. It might ruin her before we even get to have a go."

"Afterwards, then. Once we're settled."

"Once we're _settled?_ What, and miss the fireworks?"

"We can watch the fireworks very comfortably from the new lab," said Lalnable. "I can pull the live feeds from anywhere."

"I _know,_ I'm the one who opened their closed circuit," said Five. "But it's not the _same."_

He held out a hand to her. After a moment of deliberation, she took it.

"I promise it will still be spectacular," he said. "And besides, no matter how much fun it is, it'll have _nothing_ on the main event."

"I guess," said Five, conceding. He squeezed her hand.

"What would you like, to cheer you up?" he asked.

She considered, pursing her lips, running through her options. There was Rythian, in the basement; Lalnable, right in front of her; Strife Solutions, and Lomadia, and all of Nano's other friends, ripe for the picking. With all the plans she'd laid, the world was practically her oyster.

"I want an entire tiramisu," she said.


	25. Chapter 24

Nano did not go straight to Bebop, although she wanted nothing more than to grab him by the lapels and shake him until the truth fell out. Had he known? Had Ridge told him? How long had he been working with the stuff? How much was missing? But she could still feel the cold barrel of Strife's gun pressed into her abdomen, and she had no desire to repeat the experience. She didn't think Bebop would shoot her, but then again, she hadn't thought Strife would shoot her, either.

Instead, she called up Trellimar.

 _"Hullo?"_ he said groggily. It was half past one in the afternoon.

"It's Nano," she said, somehow managing to keep her voice level. "I need to talk to you. In person. It's about the project."

There was a moment of silence.

 _"All right,"_ said Trell. _"Thought we were waiting 'til tomorrow for that."_

"We need to talk about it first," said Nano. "As soon as possible, preferably."

 _"You've found something,"_ he said.

"I've worked something out," she said. "And I'd prefer not to discuss it over the phone, if it's all the same to you."

 _"Yes, all right,"_ he sighed. _"My place or yours?"_

"Yours," said Nano. "I'm heading there now."

_"For fuck's sake. Honestly?"_

"It's really, _very_ important."

 _"I'd think,"_ he said dryly. _"Fine, see you in a bit."_ And he hung up on her.

Nano set off for his flat almost immediately. She left the jar in the store room, figuring it couldn't do any harm in there. Since she wasn't sure when she'd be getting back, she collected all her things and locked up her office. She narrowly avoided running into Chrissa Hayes on her way out, ducking into a side corridor at the last second at the sound of her voice.

"Don't see _why_ he's got to keep bringing her into it," she was complaining. "Honestly, she's not had thing-one to do with it since the initial push."

"Telling," said another woman. "Out of curiosity, why _is_ it taking so long?"

"You kidding me?" said Chrissa. Nano flattened herself against the wall as she walked by, holding her breath. "The place is stuffed full of deranged freaks who Ridge's people fucked up beyond all recognition. I'm no Pandora, and I'm not opening _that_ box."

There was a quiet sizzling noise. Nano pulled her hand off the wall before she burned a hole in it. Chrissa and her companion continued on, towards Nano's office. Nano ducked back around the corner and hurried off to her car, trying not to dissolve her clothes. When all this was done, she was going to have a very _serious,_ very _long_ talk with Chrissa about the prisoner release program.

The remainder of her exit from YogLabs was uneventful, and soon she was standing on Trellimar's doorstep, wondering just what the hell she was going to say. She was still reeling from her revelations, still sickened and horrified. It seemed too awful to be true, and her mind was scrambling for an alternative explanation. She did have a propensity for picking the worst possible scenario, especially in the past few months.

While she was standing there chewing her lip and thinking about it, the deadbolt slid back and Trellimar opened the door for her.

"Um," she said, going red in the face.

"I was going to let you knock," he said, "but you didn't, and it was getting awkward." He cocked a thumb over his shoulder and stood aside, and she sidled past him into the flat. He shut and locked the door behind her.

"Should I bother asking how you knew I was here?" she asked.

"I heard the elevator come up and then I went and looked through the peephole," he said. He shuffled over to the big black papasan chair and dropped himself into it. The massive, striped gray cat was sitting on the bed, watching her through narrowed eyes.

"Oh," said Nano. "Right. Um." She fidgeted, standing in the entryway awkwardly.

"Well?" Trell prompted. "What've you worked out?"

"It's . . . sort of horrific," said Nano. "Is there—sorry, is there someplace I can sit, or. . . ?"

"Huh? Oh. Not really. You can sit on the bed if you want. Just shove Gran off if he objects."

"Right," said Nano. She crossed to the bed and perched on the very foot of it. It wasn't made, and smelled sort of funny. Trell looked her over and frowned.

"Hang on," he said. "Is the the sort of _horrific_ to where it oughtn't to be said out loud ever by anyone, just in case someone's listening?"

"Um?" said Nano. She glanced around the flat, just in case someone _was_ listening. "I don't—think so?"

"Just thought I'd ask so I could lie down beforehand," he said. "This chair tips over if you cough in it wrong."

"Er," said Nano, "okay. No, I don't—I don't think it's that bad."

"All right, so how bad _is_ it?"

She took a deep breath.

"You know that serum?"

"No, what serum would that be? It wouldn't be the serum I've been forced to investigate for the past three months, would it? By some bizarre coincidence? The one you said you were coming here to talk about?"

"Fuck off," she snapped. She reigned herself in, shutting her eyes and taking another breath. "I've got . . . I've got reason to suspect it's—made out of Llewellyn Xephos."

There was silence. Nano opened her eyes. Trell was staring at her.

"It's _what?"_ he said.

"It's made out of—"

"No, I _heard_ you, but— _what?"_

"He had a Power called _hypermitosis,"_ Nano said. "He—when he died, he was in . . . rather a lot of bits. I was given to understand they took him out of his office in jars."

"Hell of an accident," said Trell.

"It wasn't an accident," said Nano.

"Wow! What a massive surprise! Said no one ever," Trell sneered.

"I think they must've kept the jars," Nano went on. "And . . . done something to—the stuff. They had. Of him. To sort of . . . extract whatever it was that caused the hypermitosis, and then use it on people to . . . yeah."

Trell shook his head. "And you've got evidence of this, have you?"

"Not . . . exactly," said Nano.

"Fantastic! What _have_ you got?"

"A set of things to look for tomorrow?" she said, impertinent.

Trell made a face. "S'pose that's better than just a hunch," he conceded. "And you had to come and tell me this right away?"

"I thought it was _rather important!"_

"Rather, but it could've waited. I don't know what you're expecting me to do about it in the next twenty-four hours that couldn't've been done the day of."

"I'm sorry, I just found out that I've injected myself with the purified bits of my horrible former boss who _I watched die,"_ Nano said. "And, to add to that, that it's entirely likely that the _actually evil_ twin brother of my so-called _killer robot_ used those same bits to put on a dead man's body and walk out with it!"

"And?" said Trell, arching an eyebrow. "It's not _my_ business if you're getting hysterical."

"Well excuse the hell out of me for retaining some human emotions," she said nastily.

Trell glared at her for a moment, then looked away, lips pinched.

"I'm going to have to tell Strife about this," he muttered.

"And?" Nano said, barbed.

"And I'm a _bit_ preoccupied with the concern that I might get shot in the head again," said Trell.

"It's not _my_ business if you're getting—"

"All right, all right," he said, waving a hand at her. "Sorry, God's sake."

Nano was on the verge of tossing back a _you don't_ _sound_ _sorry,_ but restrained herself. Instead she said, "Since I'm already here, we might as well talk about the plan for tomorrow."

"There's not much of a plan," said Trell.

"Maybe that's why you've not been getting very far?" she suggested sweetly.

"All right, little miss Board Member," Trell said, bristling. "What's _your_ brilliant idea?"

"First of all, if you call me _little miss_ again, I'll break your fucking arm," she snapped.

"Have a go!" he retorted, before she could continue. "I'm sure it'll work out as brilliantly as all your _other_ violent, demanding bollocks. Just go on throwing your weight about and fucking up anybody who gets in your way, God forbid you should have a civil _discussion_ about it. That'd be _far_ too troublesome for you, wouldn't it. Go on, _break_ my arm because I said something you didn't like. The world's your fucking oyster, and all the men and women merely slimy bits! It's no wondering how _you_ ended up on the Administrative Board. Flocking together with all the other vicious, arrogant, selfish pieces of shit."

Nano stared at him. He stared right back. His hand was clenched on the side of the papasan chair.

 _"Selfish?"_ she said, her voice shaking.

"Selfish," he said.

"You're a fine one to talk."

"I've selfishly reserved the right to call other people on their shit regardless of my own faults," he said. He was watching her like he expected her to lunge for him at any second. Nano took a deep breath and let it out through her nose.

"I'm sorry if I've given you that impression," she said tightly. "I think it's best if we focus on our business, and part ways as soon as possible afterwards."

Trell watched her for another moment, then dipped his head in an allowance. His hand loosened somewhat, although it did not unclench completely.

"All right," he said. "I'll refrain from using patronizing language and hopefully you can refrain from breaking any of my bones."

"That sounds very fair," said Nano.

"So," he said, "what's the plan?"

Nano spent a few more seconds composing herself, just to make sure she wouldn't snap at the slightest provocation. Trell's words had stung more than she was willing to let on, and her restraint was at least as much a product of a genuine desire to not hurt him unnecessarily as it was of the knowledge that she probably _couldn't_ actually hurt him.

At least not permanently.

* * *

 

It took about an hour, but they managed to hash out a reasonable plan without ending up at each other's throats again. There wasn't much to it—they would convene in Nano's office, give Trell a chance to lie down, and start a timer. From there they'd go directly to Medical, with Nano providing a shield of legitimacy over the entire affair. Despite having attempted the stunt several times already, Trell didn't know where the information on B714-LE was kept. Nano theorized that it could be gotten either off the main server or from the physical lab notebooks, which would likely be kept in the labs with the material. Nano wasn't confident enough in her hacking ability to say for certain that she could get in and get all the relevant information in under an hour, so they were going to go for the physical copies first. She had neglected to mention that Lalna probably could have done it in under five minutes. It wasn't an option.

They agreed to meet outside the YogLabs complex at seven thirty the following evening. That would give Nano enough time to arrange for Trell to have a visitor's pass, and decrease the number of people who would be around, either as potential obstacles or as collateral damage, should things turn violent.

When Nano left, she sat in her car for several minutes, staring at nothing and thinking. She'd have to tell Lomadia and Panda about the serum, what it was made of. Trell might have scoffed at her lack of concrete evidence, but she was absolutely convinced she'd hit upon the truth, provable or not. Both of them had had it used on them, Panda at regular intervals for months. There was no way she could _not_ tell them.

She just had no idea how she was going to do it. Their reactions already seemed overwhelming, especially considering that her own head was still reeling from the revelation, her skin still crawling.

With an immense welling of guilt, she considered that she _could_ wait to tell them. Just until tomorrow, of course, when it would make sense for her to have found out everything there was to know about the serum. Another twenty-eight hours couldn't make much of a difference, could it, especially when they'd all been completely in the dark about it for months already. It wasn't even _lying,_ in the strictest sense, just an omission of information that she really _was_ going to tell them, tomorrow, when it would be easier. . . .

Nano's hands clenched on the steering wheel.

"Selfish," she muttered to herself. The word tasted like bile.

She started the car and headed for home, finding the words to say and rehearsing them until the horror receded.

* * *

 

Panda stared at her. Lomadia frowned, sleepy and ruffled. Lalna was lying on the floor of the living room, where they'd been since last night, mostly because they wouldn't fit in the closet.

"You're _shitting_ me," Panda said.

"I don't think so," Nano said. "I mean, I haven't got any concrete proof, but—"

"I think I'm going to vomit," said Panda, who looked it. Lomadia ruffled her feathers.

"Yeah," said Nano, "wouldn't blame you. I know it's not . . . super relevant to anything going on right now, but—I figured it needed to be said. As soon as possible. Um."

"Ugh," Panda muttered. "I feel like my innards need a shower. Or a shitload of vodka, that'd work too."

"Tell me about it," Nano said. "I—Panda, look, I'm so sorry about this. I should have worked it out sooner, so you . . . so you wouldn't have been. . . ."

He waved her off. "Whatever," he said. "If you had, I wouldn't've gotten six months of a working pancreas. At least now I won't be fucking _conflicted_ about giving it up."

"Right," said Nano. "Lom, sweetheart? Are you . . . all right?"

Lomadia shrugged. "I dunno," she said. "It's awful and gross and I'm too tired to think about it."

"That's . . . very fair," said Nano. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"It's fine," she said. "I'm sort of glad you did. Otherwise you would've had to explain it twice. Once to Panda and once to me."

"Yeah," said Nano, doing her best to hide her discomfort. "Good point."

A silence fell. Panda made a face.

"So what do we do, then?" he asked.

Nano blew out a breath, leaning back on the couch.

"Exactly what we were going to do, I s'pose," she said. "No change of plans. I've still got to do espionage with Trell tomorrow and then we've still got to work out a way to get Nilesy—"

"I thought you talked to his mum," Lomadia said.

"I did," said Nano. "And she _just_ about caved my skull in. She was having none of it. So that's Plan B out the window, too."

"What's Plan C?" Panda asked.

Nano rubbed her face. "Working on it," she mumbled, though the words tasted bitter.

There was another silence.

"I think we should wake Lalna back up," Panda said.

"For God's sake," Nano mumbled.

"We should! They could be fine now, maybe it's been long enough! We _need_ them, Nano! They could have this Fair Isle business sorted in two _minutes!"_

"And what if they're _not_ fine?" Nano asked. "What if—what if it doesn't _matter_ when we wake them up? What if I _can't_ fix them?"

"Come off it, of course you can, you're a genius," said Panda.

"But what if I _can't?"_ she insisted. "I don't want to make this any worse. We can't _afford_ for this to get any worse, we've got— _literally_ just the three of us, and we don't even know what we're up against, and someone could _die,_ and—"

"Nano," Lomadia interrupted.

"I can't lose anybody else!" Nano burst out. "I can't, I won't do it! I don't care what it takes, I don't care—I don't care—"

The thin threads of composure that had been holding her together all day came unraveled, and she broke down sobbing. She buried her face in her hands, burning with shame, sick with fear, trembling and lightheaded. Lomadia settled on the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, folded a wing over her.

"I know," she said softly, petting Nano's arm. "I know."

"I can't do this," Nano said, muffled. "I can't keep _doing_ this."

"Could you fix it so they don't try to wake up?" Lomadia asked. "That might make stuff easier. If they don't try to wake up all the time so we don't have to watch them as much."

Nano shook her head. "I'm not doing that to them," she said. "It's bad enough what I've _already_ done. I can't just—fuck about in their head for no reason. Xephos did it to them all the time, and I'm _not_ going to do it, I'm _not. . . ."_

"Maybe that's why they got angry," Lomadia said. "Because they thought you were going to mess with their head. Maybe we can just explain when they wake up."

"I don't think we'd get the _chance,_ Lom," Nano said. "You saw what they were like. If they wake up like that, we're not going to be able to get a word in edgewise."

"Maybe _you_ couldn't," said Panda.

"I'm not risking it," Nano said. "I'm not saying it's a hundred percent that Trell was telling us the truth, maybe he's got some sort of ulterior motive for keeping Lal shut down, but . . . I'm not prepared to take that risk. So far nobody's died, and—"

"For fuck's _sake,_ Nano, Lal's _not_ going to kill anybody!" Panda said, exasperated.

She felt Lomadia stiffen, just slightly, felt the change of her breath and the shift of her wings. She unburied her face from her hands and looked up at Lomadia.

"Sweetheart?" she said softly.

"What?" said Lomadia, not looking at her.

"Is something wrong?"

Lomadia fidgeted for a moment. She shrugged. She folded one of her wings and started tugging on the pinions absently with her free hand.

"It's probably not anything," she said. "I'm probably wrong. It's not important."

"Wrong about what, sweetheart?" Nano said.

She fidgeted some more, twitchy, nervous.

"When they got upset," she said at last. "They did something with their hand, and there was a noise. It was the thing they did with the lasers, and it was sort of the laser noise, too. But they weren't going to shoot me. Because they don't have lasers anymore. I dunno. I was probably just scared and seeing things wrong. Panda would've seen and heard, and he didn't, so I was probably wrong."

"Well," Panda said, uncomfortable. "I might not have. My hearing's gone to shit, after that bank thing, especially high-pitched noises. And, y'know, I've only got the one eye."

Nano looked at Lomadia, taking in the turned-down corners of her mouth, the tight set of her eyebrows. Carefully, she extracted herself from Lomadia's arms and crossed to Lalna, kneeling at their side.

She pulled the sleeve back on their outstretched arm, the hand still gripped in the shape of her wrist. She poked around the false flesh around the wrist, probing for seams. She didn't feel any, nor anything abnormal underneath. She checked the other wrist. Again, she found no seams, but as she prodded, she found a hard knot just under the heel of Lalna's balled fist. Her blood ran cold.

"Panda," she said quietly, voice shaking. "Could you bring me a knife out of the kitchen, please?"

"What the fuck for?" Panda demanded.

"So that I can look at this."

"You're not _cutting them open,"_ he said, horrified.

"They're shut down," she said. "It'll be a couple inches. It won't hurt them."

He stood for a moment, then went into the kitchen and came back with a small paring knife. Nano took it from him. She had to use both hands to slice open the false flesh of Lalna's wrist, to keep the cut clean and deep. She handed the knife back to Panda and pulled apart the gash, peering inside.

Gleaming back out at her was a bead of pinkish glass, situated at the head of a black tube. She swallowed.

"Uh," Panda said, the fear in his voice now, too. "What's that?"

"It . . . looks like the business end of a Manually Aimed Laser Rifle," Nano said faintly.

There was a long, long silence. Nano swallowed.

"Okay," Panda squeaked. "Mind changed. They might kill somebody."

"I'm sorry," Lomadia said.

Nano shook her head. She got up and went back to the couch and sat down next to Lomadia.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she mumbled. Her voice and mind were equally vague. "For speaking up about it."

"How . . . how long have they had that?" Panda asked. Nano shook her head. She leaned against Lomadia and shut her eyes.

"I don't know," she said. "I feel like it must've been since they got—since Specimen Five messed with their power core. I feel like I would've _noticed,_ with them all opened up and me poking about in their . . . everything. But—Jesus, MALaRs use _so much power,_ I can't imagine why they'd've put one in when they already knew they were running out. I can't—I can't imagine why they'd put one in at all."

"Well," Panda said. "What the fuck."

"What the fuck," Nano agreed.


	26. Chapter 25

Nano spent most of Wednesday worrying and doing very little else. Getting a visitor's pass set up for Trell was easy, and took about an hour. She made some headway with the data on Specimen Five, but it was mostly spent cracking Strife's encryption. It was difficult to focus through the haze of all the things that could possibly go wrong, and so when five o'clock rolled around it was something of a surprise—she'd gotten very little actually done, and couldn't account for all the time that had passed. She wasn't sure _what_ she'd been doing all day, only that she had very little to show for it.

She was planning on meeting up with Lomadia for dinner, so they could talk briefly about her role in the proceedings. Mostly it would just be _sit outside and call me if anything looks bad,_ but for the sake of her nerves, Nano still wanted to see her beforehand. Panda was staying home with Lalna, and had gotten Zoey to come over as well, so he wouldn't be left alone.

Nano was adamant that _none_ of them should be alone, ever, for any length of time.

She was almost out the door when the phone on her desk rang. She stood glaring back at it, lips pinched. It was probably Bebop or somebody, still angry about Lalna. They'd leave a message, which she'd delete first thing in the morning. It definitely wasn't Lomadia or Trell or Panda, since all three of them would have just called her cell. Then again, it could have been something unexpected and tremendously important, and if she left it she'd regret it forever.

With a resigned sigh, she went back and answered it.

"Dr. Sounds, YogLabs Section L," Nano said, putting on her professional-voice.

_"How do you know Liam?"_ Dr. Peculier demanded.

Nano stiffened, her brain kicking into high-gear.

"He's my friend," she said. "I met him two years ago. I helped get him out of some legal trouble."

_"And why did you come to me?"_

"He's in trouble again, and I can't get him out of it this time," said Nano. "When I found him, he'd had multiple psychotic breaks and committed at least four murders. I got him into psychiatric rehabilitation, which _worked,_ but someone else decided to get the police involved. They've sent him back to Fair Isle."

Dr. Peculier did not respond, so Nano was given no choice but to continue.

"I . . . can't get in to see him," she said. "They won't let me, because I'm not related to him. I can't talk to him, I can't visit him, I can't do _anything_ to help him. You could."

For a moment, there was silence.

_"How certain are you?"_ Dr. Peculier said. _"That he's really Liam. That he's really—my son."_

"Absolutely certain," said Nano.

_"Why?"_

"I'm sorry?"

_"What's your evidence? Your proof?"_

Nano took a slow breath.

"Tell me if this sounds familiar," she said quietly. "A seven-year-old boy wanted to be a marine biologist. He started manifesting, and his father sent him away to Fair Isle, trying to _fix_ him. The boy drowned in the North Atlantic when he was eight years old. His body was never found."

_"Those things aren't hard to find out,"_ Dr. Peculier said, although her voice was shaking.

"He laughs when he's nervous," Nano said. "He loves bad movies and cats and pineapple on pizza. He thought whales were cool and sharks were badass and he—he wanted to get in a submarine and look at fish, or something. He tilts his head when he's confused, just like you do. He's got your eyes."

Dr. Peculier said nothing. Nano braced herself and spoke one last time.

"Two years ago he murdered his father, Llewellyn Xephos," she said. "I was there. I was there when Xephos begged his son for his life, and I was there when Liam turned him down."

Again, there was silence. Nano's hand was sweating on the phone. Her tongue was burning, like the words themselves had been too alkaline for her system. They'd been bitter enough. Distantly, she thought she could hear the clicking of a keyboard.

_"There's a ferry twice a week,"_ Dr. Peculier said. _"I'm aiming for the one_ _this_ _Saturday_ _, and if they don't let me on it, I'll swim. It leaves from_ _Aberdeen at_ _six_ _a.m. You can meet me there_ _if you want_ _,_ _otherwise I'll go alone_ _."_

Nano's heart leapt into her throat. "You'll—you'll go?"

_"If this friend of yours really is my son, then I have to,"_ said Dr. Peculier. _"And if he's_ _not_ _my son, he will_ _desperately_ _wish he had never pretended to be._ _"_

"Wait, but—why've I got to meet you? They won't let me—"

_"I'll see to it that they do,"_ she said. _"_ _Saturday_ _,_ _six_ _a.m., Dr. Sounds. Goodbye."_

Dr. Peculier hung up. Slowly, Nano lowered the phone, letting out a slow breath. She rubbed her head, eyes squeezed shut.

"Okay," she muttered. "Sooner is better. Sooner is _better._ Just—one thing at a time."

It wasn't much of a comfort.

* * *

 

She met with Lomadia on the roof where the old nest had been. It had long since been cleared out, and the building bought up and repurposed into some kind of indie art gallery, but there was still a comforting familiarity to the place. Lomadia was sitting on the edge of the roof with a box of pizza and two grape sodas, kicking her feet over the side. It was still a few hours to sunset, but it was cloudy enough that Lomadia was using her big round sunglasses as a headband. Nano settled in on the other side of the pizza and cracked open one of the sodas.

"What sort of pizza is it?" she asked, lifting up the lid of the box.

"I got the one without cheese because cheese sometimes makes you sort of ill," Lomadia said. "I hope it's okay."

"It's perfect, sweetheart," Nano said. "I'm sorry I've made you wake up so early."

Lomadia shrugged. "I don't mind, really. Everybody's sleeping schedule is all messed up. It happens every time stuff goes bad."

"True," Nano sighed. She got herself a slice of pizza and dug in, and Lomadia followed suit. "Hopefully things won't go bad tonight. Ideally, nothing will even happen, for either of us."

"I guess," said Lomadia, making a face. "I don't really understand how Trell's stuff works. I stopped trying ages ago. It was giving me headaches."

"To be honest, same here," said Nano. "I never faff about with time if I can avoid it. You end up with paradoxes coming out your ears."

"But you're really smart," Lomadia said. "You know all sorts of science stuff."

"Thing about time travel is, it's confusing no matter _how_ much science stuff you know," said Nano. "It's like a fractal of confusion. You can zoom in as much as you like, but it'll always be the same, confusing shape."

Lomadia frowned. "It's got to make sense _somewhere,"_ she said. "Otherwise it wouldn't work."

"Now you sound like a scientist," Nano said, grinning.

"I do?" said Lomadia, her wings lifting.

"Yeah, that's just about the most scientific sentiment there is. _Everything's got to make sense somewhere, we just haven't worked out where yet._ That's like, the core of science."

"Oh," said Lomadia. "Why doesn't anybody ever say it that way? It'd be loads less confusing and . . . _intimidating_ if people just said it like that."

"D'you know, I think most scientists get a kick out of being confusing and intimidating," Nano confided.

"Not you, though."

"Sometimes. It depends on who I'm talking to."

"Like who?"

_"Wellll,_ I mean, Panda, sometimes, when he gets too big for his britches. You've got to take him down a peg every once in a while, otherwise he gets to thinking he's never been wrong in his life. Sometimes Rythian, just so he remembers that Lalna's not the only smart person he knows."

A silence fell. Nano looked out over the city, what of it she could see, sipping her soda. She didn't really feel like having any more pizza.

"He's all right, isn't he?" Lomadia said. "Rythian. He'll be all right."

Nano swallowed.

"I don't know, sweetheart," she said, which wasn't at all true. She knew. She knew there was no possible way he could be all right.

"Only, Nilesy said maybe he was working with them," Lomadia went on, and there was an awful hopefulness in her voice. "Because he sort of did the same thing, with us. He came and worked with us and we pretended he was hurt to make you and Lalna angry but really he was fine the whole time."

"I don't know," Nano said again. "And . . . honestly, sweetheart, I'm not sure which would be worse."

"It'd be worse if he was actually hurt," Lomadia said immediately. "Because he'd be _hurt._ Maybe they lied to him and said bad stuff about us that wasn't true but he believed them. That's sort of what happened last time, only we didn't lie to him, just everything was a little bit different than anybody thought. And it all turned out okay, even if it was really bad for a while. If he's not hurt then we can just find him and tell him the truth."

"We can hope, Lom," Nano sighed.

There was another little lull.

"Nano?" said Lomadia.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I know everything's really busy right now and there's not even any time to do the really important stuff, but. . . ."

Nano looked over at her. There was pain written on her face, a sort of hollow disappointment that made Nano's chest ache. She reached over and took Lomadia's hand.

"As soon as everybody's safe, we'll make you that doctor's appointment," Nano said. "I'm sorry everything fell apart before we could."

Lomadia shrugged, still downcast. "It's okay," she said. "I think it's probably actually better, because if it had all gone bad later we would've had to stop in the middle and that can make you really ill."

"Still," said Nano, squeezing her hand. Lomadia squeezed back.

"We never made your doctor's appointment, either," she said.

"I don't know that it would've helped," Nano said. "I mean, is it paranoia if they're really out to get you?"

Lomadia made a face. "It doesn't matter," she said. "It'd still be easier if your brain wasn't being awful, whether there's actually something wrong or not."

Nano took a moment to let that sink in. She moved the pizza box off the ledge and scooted over to lean against Lomadia.

"Wife?" she said. "I love you."

Lomadia kissed her hair. "I love you too, wife."

"And I'm really, really glad you're going to have my back tonight."

"Me too."

* * *

 

At seven twenty-five, Nano met up with Trell a few blocks from YogLabs and let him into the car. She handed him his visitor's pass, which he looked over and then clipped to his lapel.

"So straight to my office?" she asked, merging back into traffic.

"Unless you've got a better place," he said.

"Not really. Medical's in a different building, but I don't think there's anywhere closer that's safe enough."

"Provided nobody knows what we're doing, it hasn't _got_ to be safe," Trell said, side-eyeing her.

"You've obviously not been around YogLabs very long," she muttered.

"Have you at least worked out where we're supposed to be going?"

Nano resisted the impulse to hit herself in the head.

"I didn't manage to find anything conclusive, no," she said.

"Wonderful! Brilliant. I'm sure _that_ won't be a massive waste of time."

"Considering that all we've got to _do_ is walk in a door and find some notebooks, I think we can afford it."

"You think," said Trell. "Everything takes twice as long as you expect it to when you're on the clock."

"Well, what am I supposed to do, then?" she asked.

"If all goes to plan, you'll end up doing absolutely nothing."

"For the sake of the first time round, and in the spirit of not _wasting time."_

He made a face, glaring out the window.

"Just don't let me get hit with anything," he said. "Tasers, guns, fists, doesn't matter. As soon as I go, it's all over."

"Duly noted," said Nano. She glanced at him. "But you seriously don't think you can take a punch?"

"YogLabs is in the habit of employing people who can punch through a one-inch plate of steel," Trell said primly. "It might not be up to me."

"Riiiiiight," she said, fighting down a smile.

Trell grumbled something under his breath. Nano counted it as a victory and let it go.

The evening guard glanced only briefly at Nano's and Trell's passes before waving them through. Nano had a flash of panic at the gate, her mind painting the Lexan windows of the guard booth with blood, making her foot tingle on the accelerator. She shook herself and fought the images down. Nobody would be dying tonight.

If all went to plan.

Nano brought Trell up to her office. For his part, he slouched along after her with his hands in his pockets, looking around dubiously. The building was a good deal more populous than she would have liked—she could only hope that Medical was more deserted, otherwise things might get difficult very quickly.

"Here's an idea," Nano said, as she unlocked her office and let Trell in. "Why don't you lie down for ten or so minutes while I work out where we should start? That way if it takes less time than we think it ought to, you won't hit your head."

"If it was going to take less time than we think, I'd already have gone," he said. He came to stand in the center of her office, arms folded, casting a critical eye over the place. He arched an eyebrow pointedly. "You haven't got anywhere I can lie down?"

Nano shut the door and gestured magnanimously to the entire floor. "Take your pick!" she said brightly.

His eyes narrowed. "It's anybody's guess how you've managed to amass as many friends as you have," he said.

"It's no wonder why you haven't got any," she retorted. She went to her desk and woke her computer back up. "Go lie down while I do actually useful things."

Trell turned away and muttered under his breath again. Nano distinctly heard the word _Strife._ She nearly cracked the mouse her hand tightened so suddenly.

_"What_ was that?" she said.

Unconcerned, Trell settled on the floor near the wall, lying on his left side. He checked his watch.

"Forty-two after," he said. "Right, so we'll aim for eight forty-two, forty-three at the latest. . . ."

"What did you say about Strife?" Nano insisted.

Trell opened his mouth, and then stopped. His eyes glazed over. A chill ran up Nano's spine. She hesitated for almost ten seconds before she went to him. It felt stupid, abandoning her search for the lab where B714-LE was kept, but she supposed last time, she had gone through with it, and the heist had continued on as planned. This was, she assumed, a sign that everything had gone off without a hitch. She had a hard time reconciling herself to the thought. Surely, _something_ must have gone wrong. Perhaps Trell had said something intensely cutting after checking his watch. That seemed like something he would have done.

She had half a mind to leave him there to deal with his seizure on his own, but that was too petty to be satisfying. She did make sure to time the seizure to the second, and did her best to keep him from biting through his own lip again. Even after several repeat performances, she still wasn't used to the violence of the episodes.

They must, she thought, have been intensely painful.

After two minutes and four seconds, Trell subsided again. Nano sat by his side, awkwardly picking at her fingernails, wondering if she ought to do something. There was a little automatic coffee maker in her office, but she didn't have anything other than coffee for it, and somehow that seemed like it wouldn't help, considering that last time he'd requested ginger tea and plain crackers, and had barely been able to keep them down.

In the end she went and got a cup of water for him, mentioning that she'd be right back before she left. She was only gone for about a minute, but she spent every second prickling with apprehension, squirming with guilt. Fortunately she got back before he had attained coherence, and nobody had come into the room and murdered or kidnapped him while she'd been gone.

Eventually, he mumbled out, "Time?"

"Two minutes and four seconds," she said.

Trell groaned. He sat up slowly, eyes squeezed shut. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and made a face.

"I've brought you a cup of water," she said, offering it to him. "Sorry. I didn't have any tea or anything."

He waved her off and accepted the cup. Slowly, he inched backwards until he found the wall and could lean up against it. He sipped the water, looking waxen. Nano fidgeted.

"How'd it . . . go?" she asked.

"Well enough," he mumbled. "I think I've got everything. Have you got . . . pen and paper, or something?"

"Yeah," she said. She got up and brought him a notepad and a pencil. He spent a minute or so writing a short, bulleted list. He tore off the sheet of paper and handed it to her, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

There were seven bullet points on the list:

  * _MED bldg L4415_
  * _8 L serum_
  * _Jars #15-47 of 'original material' – frozen_
  * _2 thefts: Jan. 11 (more) & Jul. 2 (less)_
  * _No synthesis_
  * _Enhanced mtgnsis @ hi doses – not mtgn by itself(?)_
  * _Fucking teeth_



Nano stared at the last bullet point.

"Uh," she said. "Dare I ask what—"

"What d'you think?" he said.

She shuddered. "That's horrific."

"You have _no idea."_

"I'll . . . count my blessings I haven't got to see it," she said. "This time round."

There was a modicum of silence. Trell sipped his water.

"So are we . . . done?" Nano asked. "We just go home?"

"Looks that way," he said. "Unless there's anything else you needed?"

"I'm just going to call my wife, briefly, if that's all right."

"Sure. I need a few minutes anyway."

"Right," said Nano. She moved away, back behind her desk, and called Lomadia. She answered on the second ring.

_"Is it going okay? Are you about to go?"_ she asked, right off the bat.

"Well—actually, we're done," said Nano. She could almost _hear_ Lomadia blinking.

_"Oh,"_ she said. _"I guess that's good?"_

"Your guess is as good as mine, sweetheart," she said. "Everything look all right out there?"

_"Boring, but all right."_

"Fortunately, it looks like you won't have to be bored for very long," said Nano. "Meet you back at the flat?"

_"If you want. I could meet up with you at Trell's and ride back with you. I can just follow your car."_

Nano's heart welled up with gratitude. "I think that sounds perfect, sweetheart. If it's all right with you, I don't want you to get too tired or be cramped in the car, or—"

_"I want to. I know you get really nervous when anybody's alone. I'd be sort of nervous about you being alone, too."_

"That's . . . reasonable," said Nano. "All right. I'll see you soon, sweetheart. I love you."

_"Love you, too,"_ said Lomadia.

Nano hung up, then went back to Trell.

"Right, that's all sorted," she said. "I was sort of planning on giving you a ride back to your flat, if you'd like?"

"Upon very serious consideration," said Trell, his voice weak and exhausted, "yes, I think I'd like that."

* * *

 

It took some effort to get Trell from the office to the car, and then from the car to his flat, but they managed it without too much awkwardness. Soon enough, Nano was standing on Trell's doorstep, with him inside and the cat winding irritably around his ankles.

"Well," said Nano. "I s'pose that makes us even, then."

"I . . . s'pose it does," he said.

"Right," said Nano. "I'll assume it was good working with you and be on my way."

"Right," said Trell.

There was a moment. Trell made a face. Granamyr looked up at Nano, considered her, and deemed her unimportant. She let out a short sigh and started to go.

"Um," said Trell. Nano stopped, raising her eyebrows. "Look. I'm . . . sorry. For being such a—a selfish prick. It's force of habit."

Nano looked him up and down. He was fidgeting, looking anywhere but at her.

_"All_ right," she said, "what happened to me _this_ time?"

"Not—look, no, it's not about that," he said. "I've just . . . been a selfish prick and I'm sorry, that's all."

"I appreciate that," she said carefully.

"It's just that, with Powers like mine, right, you sort of get . . . compelled," he went on, unprompted. "There's loads of things that happen that are—preventable, with an hour's notice. Too many things. And there's that old stupid story about the fellow chucking starfish back into the sea and all, but—but the beach is _made_ of starfish and the starfish have got some sort of chemical weapon than gives you seizures and there's things that _eat_ starfish in the ocean and sometimes even if you try to chuck the starfish out they just wash right back up again no matter _what_ you do, and then you've got to wonder why you're saving _this_ starfish and not _that_ one, and if some of them deserve to be saved more than others and how you've got the right to choose, and while you're saving one maybe twenty others die, and—"

"And it's too much," Nano said quietly. "It's too much to be responsible for."

"Yes," said Trell, sagging. "So it's . . . easier not to care. About any of it. About anyone. Awful things happen and I refuse to let it be my job to stop them, and sometimes I forget that other people. . . ."

He trailed off, downcast, uncomfortable. Nano felt like she was seeing him for the first time—exhausted in more than just body, encumbered by the weight of the world, profoundly and uniquely isolated. Carefully, she reached out and touched his arm.

"Thank you," she said. "For helping us."

He took a sharp breath through his nose and sighed, then looked at her sidelong.

"Well," he said, "don't get used to it."

Nano cracked a smile.

"I won't," she promised. "Er . . . have a good night."

"Yeah, thanks," he said quickly, and closed the door in her face. Shaking her head, Nano went back to the car. She leaned a hip against the hood and folded her arms, face tilted towards the sky.

Within moments, Lomadia swooped down from the roof of the building, silent and quick. She shook out her wings, flexed her claws, took Nano's hands and kissed her.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," said Nano. "Good to see you."


	27. Chapter 26

"It's not that you _can't_ leave him alone," Zoey said. "We leave him alone all the time and he's fine, he never tears up the furniture or anything, he's super good and really sweet and just a great big ball of love, it's just that he gets really nervous if you break routine! Which is like, totally understandable, I get nervous about that too, it sort of comes with being on the spectrum, it must be even harder for him because he's like, not as smart—he's super smart for a dog, though! I'm not saying he's _dumb,_ pff, no, he's a good dog and really really smart and—"

"Zoey," Panda interrupted, because she'd been going for almost a minute without taking a breath. "It's fine. I understand."

"You do? Oh, good." She sagged. "Because I was really nervous about it because I know Nano wanted both me and Fi to come over because like, she's super nervous about everything, which is like, totally perfectly cool, makes loads of sense, and—and—yeah. I didn't want you to think Fi didn't want to come! She did, she really did, she almost came instead of me but I said I really wanted to because I think she and Barry can do better than _me_ and Barry if something happens and somebody shows up trying to do bad stuff—not that I can't take care of myself, because I _can,_ I've got laser-Powers and a super badass robot arm and everything—but I thought about it all tactically because I'm really good at tactics and stuff and I thought I'd be better at fighting Lal if something went super wrong and they woke up and were evil."

"That . . . makes perfect sense, Zo," said Panda. "D'you want some tea, or something? I dunno when Nano's going to be back."

"Probably not _super_ late," said Zoey, making a face. "She said it probably wouldn't take super long, and I'm sure she knows what she's talking about. Ooh, um, not tea really, but if you've got hot chocolate that'd be really really nice."

"I'll check," said Panda, heading into the kitchen and starting a methodical rifle through the cabinets. "And yeah, I mean, of course Nano knows what she's talking about, but stuff goes wrong. With . . . sort of alarming frequency, lately."

"Ooh, ah, hm, that's true," said Zoey. "Okay, how'll we know if something's gone wrong? Because we could go save her, if we need to, I'm sure we could do that. Is there like, a time she said she'd be back? Or like, if she's not back in two hours send help, or something? Because that'd be really good to know, so we're not just _guessing_ about when she needs to be rescued, because, pff, that could be like, _super_ embarrassing, hah."

"She didn't really say," Panda said. "I sort of assumed Lomadia'd call if something came up, but . . . I dunno, something might happen to her, too."

"Mm," said Zoey. "We could call Lomadia, if it takes a really long time and we get worried! Not that I'm _worried_ about Nano and Lomadia, 'f course, because they're super amazing and brilliant and everything and I'm sure they can handle everything but like, in case they need backup? Or something?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Panda. "I haven't found any hot chocolate, have you got a second preference? Looks like they've got decaf coffee. I dunno if you drink coffee?"

"That sounds good!" said Zoey.

Panda spent about a minute working out how the coffee maker worked while Zoey continued chattering. He tried to make all the appropriate I'm-listening noises at the right spots, although it was difficult. Something about her constant reassurances that everything would be fine set his teeth on edge, like she was jinxing the whole thing over and over again. From the way she flitted from topic to topic, it seemed like it wouldn't be difficult to get her talking about something else, but he felt like he shouldn't. She was probably saying it to reassure _herself_ as much as him, and he really didn't want to upset her.

Especially with Lalna still lying on the living room floor, still so clearly frozen in the midst of violence, or at least the threat thereof. He tried not to remember the footage from _Joule's._ He'd done a marvelous job of doing just that so far—it had fallen completely out of his head within a month of it happening—but now he couldn't seem to keep his gaze off Zoey's arm, couldn't keep his mind from recalling the grainy security footage of it being messily blown off. She wasn't wearing a prosthesis, and the nub was scarred and puckered.

"—Um?"

Panda tuned back in at the crack in Zoey's voice.

"They're—ooh, they're making noises," she said. She was pressed into the back of the couch, watching Lalna with wide eyes. "Um, that's not—that's not good? I don't think that's good, um, is that—does that happen? Is that supposed to happen?"

"No, that—that happens, hang on," said Panda. He hurried out of the kitchen and knelt next to Lalna. He pressed the button on the back of their neck, and their whirring spun down to silence again.

"Oh," said Zoey. "So no worries! Good, okay, I was—I wasn't worried! It's all good, it's all super chill."

"Yeah, they do that," Panda said. "Pretty much exactly every six hours, so far as I can tell. I haven't kept super close track, but . . . yeah. So we should be good for a while."

"Sure," said Zoey, nodding emphatically. "Sure, okay, that's good. That makes sense. Not that I was worried about it or anything, hah, no, that'd be silly! It's Lalna, they're—they're good! They're all fine. Mostly. Most of the time! I'm sure it's fine!"

"It's fine, Zoey," Panda said. "There's a little button on the back of their neck that turns them off. It's super easy to find, if you want me to show you where it is. Just so you know."

"Um? Y-yeah, I don't—I don't think I'll ever need to know that," said Zoey, suddenly much more uncomfortable. She brushed her bangs out of her face, looking at the far corner of the room. "It's fine! I don't—I just don't really like the idea of turning people off? Like, turning off their brains? I don't like it. I'm not saying it's bad, or you shouldn't do it, noooo, nobody's saying that, but just like, _I_ don't want to? Because it feels weird and wrong? So I think I'll just stay over here and not do that because it's really uncomfortable for me to even think about it. We should talk about other stuff! Can we talk about other stuff? I really don't want to talk about this."

"Okay," said Panda, who wasn't feeling too comfortable himself. He moved away from Lalna, rubbing his hand. "Sorry. I guess."

"No, it's fine! It's good. I wasn't trying to make you upset or anything, I just—"

"No no, no, don't worry about it," he said hastily. "I'll—I think the coffee's done, I'll just . . . deal with that. Um. Yeah."

"Okay. Sorry. Thanks."

There was silence for a time, which was in many ways worse than all the chatter that had come before it. It became so thick that it was difficult for Panda to even ask if Zoey wanted cream and sugar in her coffee (yes, sugar, lots). He returned to the couch, handed her coffee to her, and sat down next to her.

"Look, um," he said. "Thanks. For helping out. I know it's got to be sort of nerve-wracking, after. . . ."

"Hm? Oh. With the arm thing, yeah, sort of." She paused. "Really I'm mostly just really worried about Rythian and I feel horrible because there's nothing I can do and I feel like this's happened before and I didn't do anything then either and it's really, really upsetting."

"God, _tell_ me about it," Panda muttered, hanging his head.

"It's not that I don't think Rythian can take care of himself, but Rythian really _can't_ take care of himself. I know he talks a lot about being super strong and powerful and smart but he's mostly just a big puppy and—and yeah."

"Yeah," said Panda, cracking a smile. "He's got to stop getting himself kidnapped, it's—it's starting to be a habit, with him."

"Except last time it turned out he didn't really get kidnapped," Zoey said. "Right? I thought that's what happened."

He made a face. "Sort of? I mean, the _second_ time we didn't actually kidnap him, he just sort of turned up and Niles brought him home like a—well, like a stray puppy."

"That happens," Zoey said, nodding.

"But the first time, uh, yeah. It was sort of an actual kidnapping because . . . well, _ostensibly_ it was to lure Lalna out so we could kill them, but I think mostly Niles was just upset because Rythian turned him down."

"Ooh," said Zoey. "That's—hm, that's really gross and not good."

"Well," said Panda, fidgeting. "Well, I mean, it's not outside the realm of possibility that it—it wasn't _Nilesy,_ exactly, who was doing it, sort of—it's sort of hard to tell, sometimes, between him and . . . and Vee."

"Right, yeah, that makes sense," said Zoey, with a fair amount of relief. "Still, no matter who's doing it, kidnapping him is like, super bad. I think he said he got roofied. I'm pretty sure there was something about that."

"That would've been Zylus," said Panda. "Don't ask me where he got the drugs from, because he wouldn't tell us. That whole half of the plan was his idea. I dunno _how_ he managed it, he was the most awkward person I've ever met. Apart from Rythian, I guess. Except it was like he could put it away sometimes, for business and stuff. He had this sort of . . . I dunno, _disarming_ way of—I meant, um, not that—"

Zoey snorted, even as Panda blushed and stammered.

"'S fine, I make that joke all the time," she said. "I could sort of see it, honestly. He helped out when I was making Rythian's second mask, back at Nano's lab? Last year? Or—two years ago, now, I guess, gosh, it's been a really long time. He seemed. . . ."

She trailed off. Panda looked up at her. She was frowning, drumming her fingers on her mug.

"Nervy and weird?" he suggested.

"Angry," Zoey said. "He seemed, like, I dunno. Like an inch-thick layer of dude and then just . . . angry, all the way down."

Panda didn't say anything. He took a sip of his coffee and looked away.

"I didn't really know him that well, though," Zoey added. "Maybe it was just, like, a really bad day. It was probably just a really bad day, that was like, a super rough time for everybody."

"No," Panda said. "No, I think that sounds pretty accurate, actually."

There was a slight pause. Zoey nudged him with her arm.

"He was a really good guy, though," she said. "I know there was some awful stuff, but . . . he was a good guy."

"He wasn't, though," Panda mumbled. He was starting to tear up, and he hated it. "He wasn't, and you've only got to talk to Nilesy for five _seconds_ to work that out. He was an awful person. And he was my best friend. So what the fuck does that make _me?"_

Zoey didn't answer. Panda sniffled and rubbed his eye.

"I wish he wasn't dead," he said. "I feel horrible about it, because—because after everything that happened to Nilesy, it's . . . I ought to be _glad_ he's dead. I should be. I should hate him. Niles can't even stand to hear his name, and I don't blame him, I just. . . ."

"You just want your best friend back, yeah," Zoey said gently.

Panda shook his head, sniffling some more.

"I dunno if I do, though," he said. "I mean, I try, I've tried _so hard_ to convince myself that he wasn't always like that, that something happened, it was the drinking or—or those creepy YogLabs doctors that fucked up his head and made him into . . . whatever he ended up as, but I don't think it _was,_ Zoey. I think he was _always_ like that, it was _always_ in there, and it didn't take some big ugly mess to bring it out, it just took him . . . deciding to use it on us."

Bile was creeping up his throat, drawn by the flood of words, but now that the dam had burst he found he couldn't stop. Zoey sat quietly, not interrupting, her attention unwavering.

"I mean he was _always_ manipulative," he went on, "right from day one, he was always . . . maneuvering people to get what he wanted. Like the whole world was one big chess game. And most of the time it worked out well for the people he was maneuvering, so we didn't really mind too much, but . . . for fuck's sake, Niles asked him to drug and kidnap some _random guy_ to be fucking _gruesomely murdered_ and Zy just— _did it!_ He just _did it,_ he barely even objected, he never seemed guilty about it except for like five _seconds_ before Rythian said he forgave him, I just—I wish I could _ask_ him."

A tear slid down his cheek. He wiped it away angrily.

"Maybe he knew Niles wasn't really going to kill him," he said. "Maybe he felt guilty about it forever and just didn't talk about it, maybe a _million_ things. I wish I could just make him tell me what the fuck he was thinking and why he did any of it, because I want to believe he was doing all the wrong things for all the right reasons but I _don't know_ if he was. And I'll never know. I'll never know if I liked him because of who he was or because of who he pretended to be. I'll never know how much of him was made up. How much—how much he let _me_ make up because it _suited_ him."

"That's really hard," Zoey said. "That must be really, really hard, Panda. I'm so sorry."

"You don't know the half of it," Panda said, shaking his head. "I'm the one who killed him in the first place."

Zoey got very quiet, and very still.

"I'd say I didn't mean to, but I did," he said. There was no point in stopping now. "In the moment. About twenty seconds later I wished I hadn't, and then like five days after that he died anyway. I tried to kill him, and then he saved all our lives, and then he died. At least _he_ was _sort of_ trying to do the right thing. I just . . . hurt him because I was angry. You'd think, right, that with a brain that goes as fast as mine does, I'd have time to think about shit before I do it, but _no."_

"Wait," said Zoey, frowning. "So he saved everybody's lives, but only after he was already like, dying?"

Panda opened his mouth. He closed it again. He set his coffee down and rubbed his face with both hands.

"I guess that's pretty _telling,"_ he muttered, venomous.

"Ooh, um, not necessarily, I mean, I really wasn't trying to make you feel bad, honestly, it just sort of occurred to me, and, um, oh, I'm really sorry, Panda, I didn't—"

He waved her off, just trying to keep from getting snot everywhere.

"It's fine," he said. He sat up, wiping the tears off his face and trying to regain his composure. He managed an insincere smile. "It's . . . sort of good to be able to talk about it. At all."

"Mmkay," said Zoey. "Well, I'm listening, if you want to keep talking."

Panda took a deep breath. He picked his coffee back up, but only cradled it in his hands, letting the warmth soak in.

"This one time," he said, "I convinced him to eat a jalapeño."

_"Oh_ my goodness," said Zoey. "What happened?"

* * *

 

Nano and Lomadia got back a little after nine, their expressions conveying very little about the success or failure of their mission—although the fact that they were back and both in one piece said enough.

"How'd it go?" Panda asked.

"Pretty good?" Nano guessed. Behind her, Lomadia shrugged. "I dunno. Time travel. Everything still good here?"

"Yep, mmhm, everything's great!" Zoey said. "Kept everything super safe and under control, no problem at all."

Nano actually cracked a smile at that one. "I appreciate it, Zoey. Thanks for helping out."

"Yeah, 'f course, anytime," said Zoey. "Y'know, I like helping out, like, lots. I'm always glad to help, it sort of makes me feel like I'm doing stuff? That's useful? Which is nice, because it's like, there's so much that needs doing and I know it's been like, super rough for you, and pretty much all of your friends are my friends too so of course I really want to help them, too, so like, seriously, really, call me whenever because I really really do want to help. Even if it's sort of dangerous, that's fine, 'cuz I'm like, a total badass and Fi's a total badass too so like, yeah."

"Yeah," Panda said helpfully.

Nano's smile went away very quickly. "I know," she said, folding her arms and looking somewhere else. "Just—I dunno, Zoey, there's somebody trying to kill or . . . at least seriously hurt all of my friends, and it's sort of feeling like maybe having fewer friends is better, at this point."

"Um," said Zoey, "no, that's stupid."

Panda raised his eyebrows, half shocked and half approving. Lomadia frowned, and Nano stared at Zoey with mingled affront and disbelief.

"Sorry?" said Nano.

"No, sorry, that came out sort of rude," said Zoey. "But it is really stupid to think having _less_ friends would make stuff better. I mean, what if you had, like, a _million_ friends? Then you'd be super duper unstoppable and nobody could hurt you really or any of your million friends and then it'd all be fine."

"I don't think it scales quite like that," said Nano.

"Okay, sure," said Zoey. "But having more friends is still better. It doesn't really matter why. It could be like, more targets! But in like a good way and not like a scary way because if there's more targets, right, there's less chance that each one gets hit. Right? You're not taking one target and making it bigger."

"That sort of makes sense," Lomadia said. "It's like if there's loads of rats it's harder to catch one because you've got to pick."

"Yeah?" said Zoey, sounding a little distressed. "Yeah, sure, okay, like that. But also, just like, probability, right? Percentages, and everything."

Nano heaved a long sigh and went to sit down. Lomadia went after her and perched on the back of the sofa next to her.

"I'm not going to argue," Nano said. "Thanks again for coming, Zoey. I'll . . . let you know if there's anything else you can do."

"Oh," said Zoey. "Okay, sure. I guess you're probably like, super tired from all of the everything. I should probably go back home, I'm sure Barry's worried about me. Oh, and Fiona, she's probably a little worried too, just a bit."

"I'll walk you to your car," Panda offered.

"Okay, sure!" said Zoey.

She gathered up her things, and the last farewells were said, and she and Panda headed out together.

"Um," he said, as they descended the stairs towards the car park. "I sort of . . . wanted to thank you, too. For . . . y'know. Everything."

"Yeah, 'f course," said Zoey. "You seemed like you really needed somebody to talk to about it. I really don't mind. Like I said, I like helping, it makes me feel like I'm actually, y'know . . . helping, hah."

"Well, you definitely helped," said Panda. "So thanks."

He walked her to her car, gave her a heartfelt hug, and stood watching until she pulled out of the car park. Much as he would have liked to drag his feet on the way back in, he also didn't want to end up kidnapped or arrested or murdered, so he kept his pace sprightly.

Unfortunately, when he got back inside, Nano and Lomadia were already mid-argument.

"Why _not?"_ Lomadia demanded, as Panda shut the door quietly behind him.

"Because I don't even know how she's going to get _me_ in, sweetheart," Nano said, clearly annoyed. "I can't imagine having another person would make it _easier."_

"So what? We haven't got to do her way. We can steal boats. We could fly, if we've got to!"

"It's a hundred miles at the shortest," Nano said. "So no, we definitely could _not_ fly there."

"You're the one who keeps saying nobody should be alone, why doesn't that include you?"

"It _does,_ Lom. I'll be in very public places the whole time, at _least_ up until the ferry, and after that I'll have Dr. Peculier with me."

"You don't even know her! All you know is she's Nilesy's mum, she could be really bad! His _dad_ was horrible, why d'you think she won't be? Why d'you trust her?"

"I don't! I don't trust her as far as I can throw her!"

_"Then why are you going alone?"_

Panda considered going back out the door. That or lying down on the floor with Lalna and trying to shut down.

"What choice have I got?" Nano demanded.

"I dunno! I'm not good at thinking up stuff! You're the smart one, you're supposed to think of stuff!"

"Then why won't you believe me when I say there's no other way?"

Lomadia glared at her for a moment, then turned and stalked away into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Panda winced. Nano put her head in her hands and cursed under her breath. Much as Panda wanted to leave before things got painfully awkward, his curiosity got the better of him.

"Are you . . . talking about Niles?" he asked.

Nano nodded. "His mum got back to me," she mumbled. "She's going this Saturday, and I'm supposed to come with her. I dunno how, she just said she'd take care of it."

"That's—I mean, that's good, though," said Panda, his heart fluttering. "You're, like, actually rescuing Niles! Which is like, super fucking important!"

"Hopefully," Nano muttered. She sat up, rubbing her face. "I know it's stupid. I know I shouldn't be sticking to this as hard as I am. I just really, _really_ don't want Lom or you to have to be alone anywhere. Ever. I just—I know I've got a target on my back, but I also know it's the _last one in line._ Maybe Five's more opportunistic than I think she is, or maybe Dr. Peculier's going to push me off the fucking boat for her own reasons, but. . . ."

"Wellllll," Panda said carefully. "You said they'd only let family go, right?"

"Yeah," said Nano.

_"Well,"_ he said again, "Lal's his sibling."

She glared at him. He raised his hands.

"Look, I'm just saying! If you can get them fixed in the next, like, two days, then they can go with you no problem! We could even have Trell back, probably, to make sure—"

"No," she cut him off.

"Nano, honestly, you're being fucking thick," he said, before he could stop himself. He nearly clapped a hand over his mouth.

Instead of biting his head off, however, Nano just sighed and hung her head.

"I know," she said. "I know. But—but the truth is, I don't trust myself. I don't trust myself to go in their head. Because I think I _know_ what went wrong. And it's that we scared them, those last, what, ten seconds? They were scared and they were defending themself and when they wake up they'll think they still need to. And I could _fix_ that. I could delete the last ten seconds of their memory and just—make up some bullshit about why, and they'd probably believe me, and then it'd be all fixed and they'd be fine."

Panda didn't say anything. It didn't sound like too horrendous of an idea to him, but clearly it did to Nano.

"I can't do that to them," she went on. "I _can't_ take away bits of their brain that're—that're _inconvenient_ to me. That's something Xephos would do. _Did._ And at the end of the day, moral superiority _does_ matter, at least to me. I just . . . don't trust myself not to do it if I let it be an option, because it would make things so much easier. _Too_ much easier."

"If that's what's wrong, then . . . wouldn't just like, talking to them when they wake up work?" he asked. "Or you could just, I dunno, leave them a message or something saying, like, _hey, sorry we scared you, we're really honestly not trying to hurt you."_

She shook her head. "Someone'll get hurt, Panda," she said. "It's not good enough. It's just not good enough. Besides, it's—it feels stupid to wake them up when they'd just shut down again a week later. Even if everything goes totally right and nobody gets hurt, it's still pointless."

Recognizing that brainstorming was a fruitless enterprise at the moment, he came into the main room and sat down next to her.

"We'll figure something out," he said gently.

Nano huffed out a dry, humorless laugh.

"If we live long enough," she said.


	28. Chapter 27

"Ell-ee," Strife said tightly, his lip trying to curl. "Of course. _Boy,_ Ridge was a son of a bitch."

Fox looked like xe was going to throw up. Trell wondered if this was the bit where he got shot again. Strife had taken the rest of the information without obvious affectation, but Trell's proclamation that the serum was, indeed, made out of the assorted biological detritus of Llewellyn Xephos had hit him like a bullet.

Trell was absolutely certain on that one. The jars had contained little more than red mud, at first glance, but he'd looked a little too closely and started seeing things like hair and skin and, yes, more than a few teeth. When he'd checked the notebooks, they hadn't explicitly _said_ it was Xephos, but they had mentioned the office number where the "material" had been retrieved from, and Nano confirmed that it was Xephos's.

"Er," said Trell. "Yes. Look, am I—am I free to go? I've told you everything you—"

"No," Strife interrupted, coming back to himself. His eyes refocused and fixed on Trell. "No, matter of fact, you haven't told me _everything_ I asked you to find out."

He fidgeted. He glanced at Fox. Xe was wearing an expression of confusion and, worse, suspicion.

"Fox, take a walk," Strife said, without looking away from Trell.

"Sir—"

"Take a _walk,_ Fox," he repeated.

Fox ground xyr teeth for a moment, then left the room. The door swung shut behind xem. Trell swallowed.

"So?" Strife prompted.

"The . . . the robot's shut down," he said. The words tasted foul. "It went rogue and they shut it down. About—four days ago. Sunday. So far as I know it's still shut down."

"Goody goody," said Strife, eyes sparkling. "What about darling Dr. Sounds?"

"Look, she's not after you, why does it matter?" Trell said.

"Oh no, Toffee, she's just not after me _yet,"_ said Strife. "Since you spilled the beans to her, trust me, she's _gonna_ be. It's just a matter of time. And if I don't have a _hell_ of a head start, she and all her freaky little friends are gonna rip me to shreds."

Trell's fists clenched.

"I can't say I'd mind terribly much," he said through gritted teeth.

Strife barked out a laugh. "I'm sure you wouldn't," he said. He clicked his fingers twice. "Now c'mon, gimme the run-down. What's she up to, what's she got?"

He wondered if Strife would know if Trell lied to him, if he made something up whole-cloth or even just distorted the truth. If Strife already had another source of information and was expecting a particular answer, it was fixable—he could just skip back and tell the truth next time. If, however, Strife found out he'd lied _later,_ after an hour had passed, he'd be utterly, utterly _fucked. . . ._

"She's . . . got in contact with—with Nilesy's mother," said Trell.

"Oh, first-name basis now, huh?" Strife interrupted, the corner of his mouth turning up. "'Cause last time, he was _the hydrokinesthete."_

Trell bit his tongue and swallowed down his automatic objection. "I've been hanging about with Dr. Sounds and her friends rather a lot," he said, his voice taut. "I suppose they've . . . worn off on me."

"I suppose," Strife drawled. "So what's she planning on doing with mommy dearest?"

"Rescuing Nilesy," said Trell.

 _"Rescuing?"_ said Strife, halfway between incredulity and amusement. "Oh, man, did they sucker you in too? 'Cause trust me, that little psycho is _exactly_ where he belongs."

"Her words, not mine," said Trell, through gritted teeth. He was not completely ignorant of the things that went on behind closed doors in this building. Nilesy's face had not been unfamiliar to him on their first official meeting.

"Uh-huh, okay, so what's she planning on doing with Lobotomy MacKay once she gets him back?"

"She didn't say," said Trell. His fists were clenched so hard that his fingernails were biting into his palms, bruising the bones.

"Nah, doesn't matter," said Strife. "That part's pretty easy to figure out. Doesn't take a genius to figure out she's gonna pull together all the firepower she can and try to pull a—"

There was a gurgle, and then the sprinkler heads in the room all burst to life. Strife yelped, Trell nearly jumped out of his skin. Out in the corridor, the guards cried out in surprise.

"What the _hell?"_ Strife cried. The water was warm. There was a sharp chemical stench to it. It spattered dark against Strife's pale face. Trell's skin started to burn. Strife staggered to his feet, wiping at his eyes, gasping. Pain struck through Trell's abdomen like a knife and he folded, gasping.

Strife cried out in horror. Trell looked up to see him stagger, clutching his face. The black water was drenching everything. Strife's skin was _boiling,_ swarming with blisters. He slammed into the window. His hands fell away from his face. His eyes were melting out of his head.

 _Fox,_ Fox was in here, Fox would be—

Another knife of pain struck through Trell's abdomen and knocked him out of his body. He fell, and fell, and fell, blackness all around him.

_Except—_

The world filtered back in. His whole body ached, but there was a particular tightness in his abdomen, a radiating core of pain accompanied by an uncomfortable tingling. He didn't try to sit up, still reeling. He could hear Fox's electric tea kettle rumbling up to full boil.

"Time?" he croaked.

"Two minutes forty," said Fox. "It's about quarter past three."

Trell went very still. There suddenly wasn't any air in the room.

The meeting had been at four. It had taken at _least_ ten minutes to make his report to Strife. At least. He was sure. It took him five to ten minutes to get from seizure to coherence. Always. The seizure had been nearly three minutes long.

Falling, falling, falling—it had always been in blackness, a phantom sensation. He wasn't falling _through_ anything. It wasn't a place.

_Except a flicker of white. . . ._

Trell shook himself. It wasn't the time.

"We've got to get everyone out of the building," he slurred, heaving himself upright. "And for fuck's sake, don't let _anyone_ pull the fire alarm."

* * *

 

They managed to evacuate without incident, although it took far longer than Trell would have liked. He kept an eye on his watch. Even when everything was cleared, when a HazMat team arrived in their suits to figure out what, exactly, had been dumped into the sprinkler system, he stayed, across the street, with Fox loitering at his side. They made stilted conversation, with Trell checking his watch and keeping close eye on the windows.

At four-fifteen on the dot, water spattered against the inside of every window in Solutions Tower. Trell clenched his jaw, doing his best to breathe, doing his best to give nothing away. Fox was there, after all. He didn't want to drag xem into this, whatever the hell it was, at least until he knew what it was.

He'd skipped back more than an hour. Without even trying, he'd broken the one unbreakable rule of his Powers.

"Wellp, hope those HazMat boys are well sealed up," Fox remarked, while black water ran down the windows of Solutions Tower. "What happened, anyway? You said it was horrific, but like, is it acid, or what?"

"I don't know," Trell said. "But I think I'd like to find out."

"Yeah? How come?"

Trell chewed his lip. He stood up and brushed off his trousers.

"Morbid curiosity, mostly," he said. "Let's get out of here before Strife turns up and makes us have a meeting in his limo."

"I dunno, that wouldn't be so bad," Fox said. "There's a mini bar in there."

They started off together, side by side, their pace slow. Trell wasn't sure where he was heading, just that he didn't want to stick around near Solutions Tower any longer. Honestly he wanted to go home, but he wasn't sure he could get Fox to go away and leave him alone without insulting xem.

"He wouldn't let us use it," Trell pointed out, kicking a bit of gravel.

"Who said anything about letting? I'd chuck him out and then have the driver back over him."

Trell snorted. "Tempting," he said. "Sure the driver'd go for it?"

"Yep," Fox said, with absolute conviction. "We're all just biding our time, honestly. Some day we'll have a coup and then he'll be fucked."

"Probably shouldn't talk like that this close to the Ivory Tower," Trell said. "He might have the place bugged."

"As if he doesn't know everyone who works for him hates him," Fox said. "It's why he pays so fucking well."

"Yeah, well I'd better get one hell of a bonus for today," he said. "Saved the life of everybody in the bloody building."

Fox nudged him with xyr elbow. "Hey, thanks for that, by the way," xe said.

He was assailed by a sudden vision—the awful mutilation of Strife, transposed onto Fox's body; eyes melting from xyr skull as xyr skin boiled, screaming, screaming. . . .

"Trell?"

"Yeah," he said, shaking himself. "Well. You're welcome. Buy me dinner or something."

"I'm not buying you shit," xe said. "Saved your own skin as much as the rest of us."

"I _could_ have walked out!" he pointed out, annoyed. "I could have let _whatever_ it was happen anyway!"

"I'm sure it was tempting," Fox said dryly. "Considering Strife would've got caught in it."

"It wasn't," said Trell.

"Aw, c'mon, it must've been at least a _bit_ gratifying to see—"

"I didn't want to see any of it, Fox!" he cut xem off. "It was fucking _horrifying!_ I don't care who it happened to! I'm going to be having nightmares for weeks!"

"All right, fuck's sake," Fox said. "Sorry."

Trell reigned himself in, rubbing his face.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to snap."

"Yeah, well, you've had a rough hour," xe said. "Apparently."

"Look, d'you mind if I just go home?" he asked pointedly. "I feel like shit, I'm exhausted, sooner or later Strife's going to catch up with me and demand some sort of report—"

"Yeah, dummy, that's why we're walking to my car," Fox said, rolling xyr eyes. "'Cuz I'm taking you home."

Trell bit his tongue. If he got too snappish with xem, xe might make him walk home. The way he was feeling, he'd probably pass out before he got there.

"Thanks," he ground out.

"Seems like the least I can do," Fox said. "Seeing as you saved my life."

* * *

 

The news broke that night—it was mostly thanks to Fox that Trell found out about it. He'd left the TV playing while he fixed himself dinner, just to have some background noise on. Right now it was showing reruns of some true crime show. The entire genre had experienced a boost in ratings and viewership since the Fisherman trial. He had no doubt they all had specials already in the works.

Granamyr leapt up on the counter and started making eyes at Trell's lentils, and Trell summarily shoved him back off again.

"Don't stick your face in there, you massive idiot, you'll burn your whiskers off," he admonished.

Granamyr, in protest, jumped back up on the counter again. Trell shoved him rather more forcefully and then chased him out of the kitchen. Granamyr darted under the bed, and Trell crouched down to glare at him.

"And you stay under there," he said.

Quietly, Granamyr started to purr. Trell rolled his eyes and stood back up. He cracked his back and headed back for the kitchen. He'd made it two steps when his phone started buzzing. Cursing under his breath, he rooted around until he found it, still in the pocket of his trousers, which he'd sloughed off as soon as he got home.

"Yeah?" he said, breathless.

 _"Turn on the news,"_ Fox said. Xyr voice was shaking.

"Which—"

_"Any!"_

With another bout of cursing, Trell hunted up the remote and flipped channels until he found a news station.

Slowly, he sank to the floor, staring, speechless.

The two HazMat workers who'd entered Solutions Tower were both in hospital. They had discovered a pair of tanks connected to the sprinkler system and attempted to remove them. The tanks had exploded, booby-trapped. The HazMat suits had been ruptured.

Both of the workers had started manifesting in the time it took them to get to hospital.

So far as anyone knew and any record showed, the workers had had no prior mutagen exposure and no family history Powers. Solutions Tower was under extreme quarantine—everything within two kilometers had been cleared out. Samples of the reagent had been rushed to YogLabs for analysis. Initial assessments indicated that it contained a potent assortment of mutagens, among other things. Additionally, although the tanks had exploded in the workers' faces, neither of them had presented with obvious wounds. This was reported as a baffling mystery, perhaps related to the nearly instantaneous manifestation following exposure. The news did not mention what Powers the workers were exhibiting.

Trell knew exactly why it had happened, and he wagered that at least a few people in YogLabs did, too.

He became aware that Fox was yelling at him through his phone. He picked it back up and held it a couple inches from his ear.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Yeah, I'm here, sorry."

 _"This is fucked up,"_ xe said.

"You're telling me," he said.

_"It's terrorism. It's straight-up fucking bio-terrorism. Fucking—muto-terrorism! What the fuck! Since when is that even a thing!"_

"Yeah," was all he could manage.

 _"Thank God you were in the building, anyway,"_ xe went on. _"I mean, horrific for you, for sure, but like—thank fucking God."_

"Think you might buy me dinner now?" he asked weakly.

_"D'you know? I think I might."_

"Fox," he began, and hesitated.

_"What?"_

"I think maybe we'd better talk about this. Over dinner. There's some . . . additional layers, I think. And you ought to know about them, because clearly everybody who works for Strife has either got a target on or is expendable."

_"Oh fucking joy of joys. All right. Burgers or Chinese?"_

"Chinese, for preference."

_"See what I can do. If I get horrifically mutated on the way there, I might be a bit late."_

"That's all right," said Trell. "If you wound up with Powers, you'd be totally unstoppable, so I wouldn't be able to complain anyway."

 _"Hey, yeah, that's the spirit,"_ said Fox. _"Right, see you in a bit."_

"I um," he said, and stopped again.

_"Yeah?"_

"Just . . . drive safe."

_"Sure thing, will do. Bye!"_

Trell made a face as xe hung up. Granamyr came out from under the bed and slammed his shoulder into Trell's arm.

"Guess I'll box up those lentils, then," he sighed.

* * *

 

Fox listened through Trell's entire explanation without speaking or looking at him, absorbed in xyr fried rice. When he got to the end, xe made faces in silence for about fifteen seconds.

"So he asked you to _spy_ on Dr. Sounds and all her buddies," said Fox.

"Yeah," said Trell.

"Which is why you were all for working with them?"

"Which is why I was especially grumpy about working with them," he said. "I'd . . . sort of hoped no opportunity would present itself."

"You were going to lie to him, though, right?" Fox asked, xyr brows drawing together.

"Oh, yeah," he lied, "of course. Just, you know, bit nerve-wracking."

"Sure, must be terrifying for poor immortal you."

"I'm only _theoretically_ immortal," he said. "I dunno what happens if somebody shoots me in the middle of a seizure. And I'm _not_ looking to find out."

Fox wrinkled xyr nose. "Yeah, fair," xe said. "So what now? You going triple-agent?"

"I think if I told Dr. Sounds I'd been even _considering_ spying on her, she'd cave my skull in," said Trell.

"Yeah, well then _don't,"_ Fox said, rolling xyr eyes. "Just say, _oy, Strife told me to spy on you, ain't he a fucking prick,_ and then carry on."

"Last time I told her something she didn't like about Strife's goings-on, she went and confronted him about it and, the first time round, got _both of us_ killed," he said. "I'm not saying she hasn't got a right to know, but she's a danger to herself and others."

"Sure, so maybe just wait 'til she's distracted with something," said Fox. "If I remember right, she didn't pitch her bitch-fit to Strife right away 'cuz she was too focused on finding Rythian."

"But she _did_ pitch it, eventually."

"Yeah, but _you_ weren't there."

Trell chewed his lip for a moment, scowling.

"It might—" he began, and stopped.

"Yeah?" Fox prompted.

"Well, it might be worth it to tell her about the, er, muto-terrorism, as well," he said.

"She'll have heard it on the news."

"Yes, most likely, but the news won't know or at _least_ won't say that the B714 serum was part of it."

"Ah, she'll figure it out, she's like a proper genius." Fox narrowed an eye at him. "Why d'you think it'd be worth it, then?"

"Because I'm about ninety percent sure that Specimen Five did this," said Trell. "And as soon as Nano hears that the serum was involved, she'll work that out, too, and then it'll be her business. It'll at least _look_ like I'm trying to help, which hopefully will make her less likely to cave my skull in when she finds out Strife asked me to spy on her."

"Trell," Fox said, setting xyr elbows on the table and leaning forward. "D'you _like_ these people? Dr. Sounds and her buddies."

"Much as I like anyone," he said noncommittally, taking a sip of his tea.

"Wow, thanks, that doesn't fucking sting at all," said Fox.

 _"Other than_ you," he said, rolling his eyes. "You know I like you."

"Maybe try including that explicitly, next time," Fox said. _"Anyway._ I'm asking because right now, the scales look pretty balanced, and it wouldn't be much of an issue if you just walked away. Might be a bit of a dick move, but it wouldn't be much of an issue."

"Yeah," said Trell, "so?"

"So I'm wondering why you've not walked away, is all."

"What, I'm not allowed to be _decent_ to people?" he asked, bristling.

"Take your head out of your arse," Fox said, rolling xyr eyes. "Look, if you _like_ them, fine, that's all well and good, we'll all be friends and have a grand old time. But I feel like you _don't_ like them, and I'm wondering if there's something you've not told me that explains it."

Trell fidgeted. He ate a piece of orange chicken, just to have an excuse not to answer for a little longer. His face was hot, and it probably wasn't from any spices in the food.

"Well," he said, "when it comes down to it, er . . . I do. Actually. Sort of like them."

"Aww," said Fox, smiling.

"Look, don't _tease_ me about it," he said. "Besides, if Specimen Five's not stopped, there could be another incident like this, and next time, I might not be able to stop it. Or—minimize the damage, at least."

"So now we've gone from friendship to altruism, you're covering a lot of ground," said Fox.

Trell pulled up short, the words getting stuck in his throat. He laid down his chopsticks and had another sip of tea. Granamyr rubbed against his leg and Trell reached down to scratch him behind the ears.

"I've tried altruism," Trell said. "That's not what this is."

"Dunno, sounds an awful lot like it to me," said Fox. "Given up on all that faff about starfish, have you?"

"It's not fucking _starfish,_ Fox, it's _people!_ It's _you!"_

Xe regarded him affectionately.

"Nothing wrong with altruism," xe said. "If it takes your fancy."

"Look, I'm not trying to—to save the world, I'm just . . . it's just. . . ." He rubbed his face, lost for words but shivering from the strength of his emotion.

Fox reached over and touched his arm.

"I'm with you," xe said. "For what it's worth, I like them, too. And when I find the bastard that kidnapped Rythian, I'll kick their fucking teeth in."

"Of course you will," Trell sighed.

"Yeah," said Fox, like it was obvious. "That's my fuckin' _student._ I'm the only one who's allowed to beat up on him."

Trell managed a small smile. He took Fox's hand and kissed xyr knuckles.

"Thanks for bringing dinner, Fox," he said.

Xe leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks for saving me," xe said.


	29. Chapter 28

The flight to Aberdeen only took about an hour and a half, and was uneventful. Nano tried to sleep on the plane—she certainly hadn't slept the night before—but found herself too wound up to do so. There was too much that could go wrong. There was too much uncertainty surrounding the whole affair. She wasn't even sure Nilesy would still be alive when she got there.

Worse yet, she wasn't sure he'd still be _Nilesy._ At best, she might find him in that hollow, vacant state he'd adopted in the dungeons of YogLabs; at worst, she might find him lobotomized.

After landing in Aberdeen, Nano took a taxi to the docks. She paid in cash and tipped the driver thirty percent, because her paranoia was catching up with her—she was already remarkable, and needed to make every effort to ingratiate herself to strangers who might, for whatever reason, have the opportunity to sell her out.

It took an inordinate amount of effort to work out which pier the Fair Isle ferry departed from, but Nano found it eventually. She made her way there through a thick morning fog, her jacket zipped up tight against an unseasonable chill. She'd only brought an overnight bag, but even that was heavy with the weight of a sleepless night.

Dr. Peculier intercepted her about two piers shy of the ferry, approaching at a brisk walk. She was dressed smartly, a black pencil skirt with a white blouse, low-heeled black pumps and a long gray coat. Nano stopped and set her bag down, flexing the stiffness out of her fingers.

"Dr. Sounds," Dr. Peculier said, extending a hand. Nano shook it. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Nano said, and meant it. "So . . . how am I getting aboard?"

"Ah," said Dr. Peculier. She rooted around in her purse for a moment before coming up with a plastic card, which she then handed to Nano. Her fingernails were unpainted, trimmed short. "If anyone asks, your name is Daisy, and you greatly resent the suspicion that I'm not _really_ your mother."

"Um?" said Nano. She took the card. It was an ID, with Nano's own face and the name _Daisy Peculier._

"They wouldn't let me bring a guest," said Dr. Peculier, "so I elected instead to bring Liam's sister. You've got to stop leaving your ID everywhere, by the by, it's going to get you into trouble."

"Oh," said Nano, blinking. "O-okay. Thanks. For . . . getting that. For me." She looked at the ID. It was very well made. She stuck it in her wallet and hid her real ID in her overnight bag before the two of them made their way to the ferry.

It was a small, rust-spotted thing, rocking in the uneasy sea. A single crewman lounged by the gangplank, his shoulders hunched against the wind and his hands cupped protectively around a cigarette. Dr. Peculier approached with unswerving confidence and, after a brief consultation with a clipboard and their IDs, she and Nano were waved aboard.

There was a small, two-tiered enclosure on the ferry, a cabin for passengers on the deck level and the wheelhouse above it. The deck itself was wet and deserted; it turned out that the cabin was, too. It looked more like the inside of a school bus than anything, although the seats were bigger. There were a lot of boxes and crates and bags stacked up in the storage area behind the cabin, from which Nano gathered this was mainly a supply run.

She also noted, with a certain sinking fascination, that the gaps in the railings were plenty wide enough for an eight-year-old to slip through.

Since there was very little to do out on the deck, she went into the cabin and settled in near Dr. Peculier. At the very least, it was warmer inside, although it stank of petrol.

"I'd go ahead and get comfortable, if I were you," Dr. Peculier said. "It's a ten hour tour."

"Yeah, I looked it up," said Nano. "You'd think they either would've allowed planes or they would've picked somewhere closer."

"Neither suits their purposes particularly well," said Dr. Peculier, and that was the end of that conversation.

On the assumption that reception would be abysmal or nonexistent on the island, and certainly in the ten hours of open ocean, Nano moved off to the far corner of the room and made a phone call, quickly, before anyone else got on the ferry to overhear.

_"What now?"_ Trell answered, with a kind of tired resignation that Nano knew all too well. _"And I know it's not good news because it's six o'clock in the fucking morning."_

"Sorry," said Nano.

_"You're indecent,"_ he said. _"What do you want?"_

"You remember how you said you wouldn't help us with Nilesy?" she said.

_"Oh for God's sake,"_ said Trell.

"You're the safest place for him. If somebody comes after him, you'll have an hour's notice. If—if he . . . does anything unpleasant, you're the least killable person on the planet."

_"Yes! I am! And so far, it's brought me absolutely nothing but trouble!"_

"Look, Trell, I'll owe you. We'll _all_ owe you. It'll only be for a few days, just while we figure something else out, just—"

_"Fine,"_ he sighed. _"When? And if you say you're on the way right now, I'm jumping out my window and chucking my phone in a bin before you can call."_

"I'm on my way to _get_ him now," said Nano. "If . . . everything goes to plan, I should be getting back to Bristol by eight or nine tomorrow morning."

_"And if everything_ _ doesn't _ _go to plan?"_

"Then I doubt I'll be coming back at all," she said.

He was silent for a moment, then let out a long sigh.

_"I'll w_ _ake up early_ _,"_ he said.

"Thank you, Trell," she said. "Seriously, honestly, I owe you for this. Massively."

_"Yes, yes, forever in my debt, et cetera. But I'll have you know, if he kills me, I'm_ _chucking_ _him out."_

"Very fair," said Nano, though her heart was in her throat.

_"See you_ _tomorrow morning_ _, then,"_ said Trell.

"Here's hoping," said Nano.

* * *

 

In the end, no other passengers got on the ferry, and they set off at six fifteen with only their cargo, the captain, the crewman, Nano, and Dr. Peculier. Nano spent the first hour or so reading and then, when she got too seasick, about half an hour out on the deck, watching the endless gray sea. It started to rain, cold and windy, and she was driven back inside to look out through the windows. Dr. Peculier appeared to be taking a nap, which Nano envied mightily. Hours two-point-five and three were therefore spent in silent contemplation, staring out the window while her mind wandered.

She had no idea what to expect, once they got there. She had no idea what Dr. Peculier even intended to do, although from her demeanor Nano suspected she might simply hoist Nilesy under her arm and cave in the skull of anyone stupid enough to get in her way. From all that she'd heard about the place, Nano couldn't honestly say she would have objected that much. Nilesy certainly wouldn't have.

Assuming he was in a state to object to anything. Assuming he was still alive. She had to assume those things. Anything else was too horrific to consider.

By hour five, it had stopped raining, so Nano went out to wander on the deck again. The sea was choppy, spraying her legs and face with freezing water every ten seconds, but it was better than the suffocating reek of petrol inside the cabin. She spent some time watching for whales, just for the hell of it, but didn't see anything. There weren't even any gulls, this far from land.

When she went back inside, Dr. Peculier was awake, although she appeared to be engaged in the same window-staring contemplation Nano had taken up earlier. Nano hesitated a moment, then came and sat down near her.

"Dr. Peculier?" she said.

"Hm? Yes?" she said, blinking as though from deep reverie. She turned to Nano, expectant. She looked very tired.

"If it's all right, um," said Nano, "d'you mind if I ask—what convinced you? I mean, what made you call me?"

"Ah, that," Dr. Peculier sighed, casting her eyes skyward. "Well, I watched the Fisherman trial, as you suggested. And—no, that man is not my son. But the similarities are remarkable, undeniable. I don't know what exactly I'm going to find when we get there, but. . . . I abandoned Liam once, for not being who I thought he ought to be. I'm not making the same mistake twice."

"I—I see," said Nano. "That's understandable."

Dr. Peculier made a face, then sighed. "I've honestly been meaning to ask you some things, too," she admitted. "I was struggling to find the right words, but at this point I doubt there _are_ any right words, so I'll make do with the ones I've got. It might help me if you could tell me a bit about his . . . other personalities. The only introduction I've had to them was through the trial, and I somehow doubt that's a representative sample."

"Er, well," said Nano. "I guess first off the proper term would be _alters._ He doesn't really like when you call them personalities."

"Understood. His alters, then."

"Okay," Nano sighed. "Where to even start. The one I know best is Nilesy. He's sort of . . . the main one, I s'pose. Or the one who fronts most often. I'm not really sure what the proper terminology is, he never talked about it with me much."

"This'd be the one who likes pineapple?" Dr. Peculier said.

"Er—yes? Sorry, what's that got to do with anything?"

For the first time, Dr. Peculier cracked a smile.

"Oh, it's just a bit of ridiculousness," she said. "Liam absolutely _despised_ pineapple. Virulently opposed to it from the moment he was old enough to try it. It's just odd, isn't it, that one of his other—sorry, his alters—would like the stuff enough to put it on pizza, of all things. Liam would've pitched a _fit_ if you'd ruined a perfectly good pizza with pineapple."

"That . . . is pretty odd," said Nano, uncomfortable.

"Sorry. That was completely off the point. Go on. I'll try not to interrupt again."

Haltingly, Nano did her best to provide a comprehensive description of Nilesy's personality. It was more difficult than she would have suspected. There was simultaneously much too much of him to be summed up, and not nearly enough to make a convincing person. She found herself inexorably drawn back to his traumas, and forced herself to leave off of them. It wasn't fair to define him that way.

She was eventually confronted with the inescapable fact that she didn't actually know him that well.

"I suppose he's—very caring," she concluded. "Self-sacrificing, almost. Or—well, sometimes. He can be."

"Well!" said Dr. Peculier. "He sounds like a complex individual. I think I may just have to meet him myself and see how it goes."

"M-maybe," said Nano. "It might not go very well. At all. For you. He _did_ mention that if he ever saw you, he'd kill you."

Dr. Peculier laughed. Nano stared at her, leaning away.

"Good!" said Dr. Peculier. "Good. I'd be more concerned if he _didn't_ hate me."

"No, not good," said Nano, "because there's a pretty sizable chance he'd actually _do it._ So far he's one for one on the . . . parenticide."

_"Parricide,_ would be the term," said Dr. Peculier, sobering. "I can't say I wouldn't deserve it."

There was a long, awkward pause. Nano cleared her throat, at a loss for anything to say. In the end, it was Dr. Peculier who broke the silence.

"Tell me about the other one, then," she said. "Vee, I think his name was."

"Much easier," Nano said darkly. "That one's the serial killer."

"Yes," said Dr. Peculier. "I had gathered."

"His _full_ name is . . . Verigan Peculier," Nano said, highly uncomfortable. "That's . . . sort of how I found you. Indirectly."

"Named after his great-grandfather," Dr. Peculier mused, drumming her fingers on her knee. "Telling, I suppose."

"So far as I can tell, he's got one dimension, and that dimension is _sadist,"_ said Nano. "He thinks it's funny to hurt people and he doesn't care about much of anything at all, consequences included. If you watched the Fisherman trial, you—you know."

"I know," Dr. Peculier confirmed. "Honestly, that's more what I expected. Considering what Liam's been through. Considering . . . well, considering _Liam."_

Nano frowned. "What d'you mean?"

Raising an eyebrow, Dr. Peculier asked, "You have _met_ Liam, haven't you?"

"Sort of. Very briefly. Under . . . exceptionally bad circumstances. For him."

"Ah," said Dr. Peculier. "Well. He had a vicious streak. Rarely actually employed, except in the form of cutting wit, and even that tended to send him into paroxysms of guilt. Probably because he made the mistake of using it on his father once or twice and got back ten times what he dished out."

"That's . . . cruel," Nano said, discomfited.

"Very," said Dr. Peculier. "I suppose in the moment it seemed less egregious because Liam was rather cruel himself. He had very little sympathy for other people. He _did_ have a particular fascination with watching them be mauled by sharks."

Nano blinked. "Oh," she said.

"He hid it, of course," Dr. Peculier said, her eyes vague with distance. "He was bright enough to know it was in some way _wrong,_ although like most children, he wasn't particularly good at keeping secrets. . . ."

"Did . . . did anything ever come of it?" Nano asked.

"In a manner of speaking," said Dr. Peculier. "Llewellyn found one of his drawing journals. Filled cover to cover with _meticulous_ renderings of all the deaths in _Jaws._ It was tremendously macabre. Llewellyn . . . was not happy. He burned the journal, of course, while Liam watched. And all Liam's colored pencils. And our copy of _Jaws._ And—well. He was a very firm believer in the efficacy of corporal punishment."

Nano's jaw clenched. Dr. Peculier's mouth pulled into a wry smile.

"I simply can't _imagine_ where Liam got his violent tendencies from," she drawled, sarcastic.

"Dr. Peculier?" Nano said.

"Please," said Dr. Peculier, "call me Isabel."

"All right," said Nano. "Um, there's something I've been wanting to ask you, and—it's very personal, and I understand if you don't want to answer, but. . . ."

Isabel gestured magnanimously. "Go on," she said. "It's felt unfair, learning all of this about Liam's alters without giving anything back. Even if it's not to him, I feel like I've got to reveal _some_ personal information. Ask away."

"Well, it's just—I can't imagine _anyone_ wanting to marry Llewellyn Xephos. Least of all you. So . . . how did it happen? How did a woman like you end up with someone like him?"

That same wry smile pulled up the corner of Isabel's mouth again. She sat back and crossed her legs and sighed.

"First of all, I _wasn't_ a woman like me, then," she said. "I've changed a great deal. In all honesty, it was . . . ambition, that did it. Raw ambition, on both our parts. He was brilliant, and vain, and ruthless, and so was I. We wanted to be remembered. We wanted to . . . leave our marks on the world, indelibly. I didn't love him, if that's what you're asking. I know for a fact he didn't love me. He was gay as the day is long, and didn't bother making too much of a secret of it. There was this old friend of his from university. . . ."

She trailed off, made a face, and shook her head.

"Though I suspect Llewellyn didn't love him, either. I suspect Llewellyn never loved anyone except himself. But when you're young, and you want to live forever, and you're smart enough to know you won't, there's two options. You invent the fountain of youth—which people have been trying unsuccessfully for centuries—or you find someone whose genes are agreeable and you make a child together, which has been working fantastically for millennia."

"I feel like that doesn't _necessarily_ require a . . . a woman," Nano said.

"He was also massively transphobic," Isabel said dryly.

"That—yeah, that's true, I'd sort of forgot about that."

"Besides, I can't imagine there were too many people of _any_ gender willing to carry Llewellyn's child. I just happened to be the proper combination of blindly ambitious and idiotically naïve."

"I'd say I don't want to imagine how that happened, but in all honesty, I can't," said Nano. "I cannot picture that in the least. I feel like it must've been all in test tubes."

"Oh no," said Isabel, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Llewellyn could be very practical, when he had a goal in mind. Exceptionally hands-on."

"Nope! No, I'm out, I'm done," Nano said, throwing her hands up in the air.

"It was a very _very_ busy week," said Isabel, smiling to herself.

"I think I'm going to throw up," said Nano.

"All right, I'll stop," she said, laughing. "So. Loveless as we were, we desperately wanted that child to be perfect. I think that was the mistake, really. You can't pin all your hopes on a stranger, especially not one you feel entitled to. The first seven years were . . . charmed, for lack of a better word. He was a perfect little scientist, was Liam, and Llewellyn . . . Llewellyn was as pleased as I'd ever seen him. Apart from the occasional sociopathic hiccup, it seemed like his plan was going off without a hitch."

"And then . . . Liam started manifesting," Nano said.

Isabel's face hardened. She half-turned away from Nano, folding her arms.

"Yes," she said. "Until that point, I had. . . . I knew that Llewellyn was not a kind man, nor a good man, but I'd always thought he was at least an honest one. And we had been—united, in our bigotry. Imagine my absolute horror when I found I'd . . . married a monster. Been manipulated and—and _used,_ to grow another monster inside my own body. . . ."

She shuddered. Her lip curled.

"I felt tainted. I felt . . . indelibly dirtied. I left the next day. The very next _day,_ I left them both, and I never saw either one again. Liam's little obsessions had taken on a much grimmer cast, and I was almost as frightened of him as I was disgusted with Llewellyn. I had lawyers to handle the divorce for me. Tempting as it was to out Llewellyn to the world, ruin him utterly, I didn't. Mostly because it would have ruined me, too—I wasn't the only one who would have considered me _tainted._ I got to keep my career and my prestige, and the only price was that he got to keep his, too. I heard from him exactly once after that. A phone call. It lasted fifteen seconds."

Nano said nothing, her stomach full of dread.

"He used somebody else's phone, because I suppose he knew I'd blocked his numbers," said Isabel. "I'll never forget it. He said, _Isabel, our son is dead._ And I said, _Why?_ I don't know what I expected. I don't know why I asked that way. Not _how_ or _when,_ but _why._ And Llewellyn—Llewellyn, damn him to hell, he said, _I don't know_ _._ And that was it. I found out the details on my own, about Fair Isle, about Llewellyn's . . . _crusade_ to find a cure, about the sorts of things. . . . I started to realize what I'd done, what I'd . . . the life I'd left that poor child with. My son, with. Llewellyn _was_ a monster, after all. Just not for the reasons I'd thought."

"So you . . . started up the Agency?" Nano asked softly.

"Eventually," said Isabel. "It took me some time to get round to it. I had a lot of unlearning to do. I'm still unlearning, even now. I was too late to save Liam, but I thought . . . I might as well try to save as many other children as possible from the same fate, or worse. Did you know, it's only in the last decade that the rate of filicide of Powered children has dropped below one percent?"

"I—I didn't know that," said Nano. "That's horrifying."

"Isn't it," said Isabel. She smiled wryly, looking over at Nano. "I'm sorry. I've given you a great deal more information than you asked for. I haven't had many chances to talk about it, and my poor therapist must be sick to death of it."

"It's fine," said Nano. "It . . . explains a lot. Um . . . thank you."

"My pleasure," said Dr. Peculier. "Honestly."

There was a moment of silence.

"I've been thinking," Dr. Peculier said. "About this place, and what could be done about it. I'm living in hope that it's changed its colors since last I heard about it, but if it hasn't. . . ."

"You're planning on doing something about it?" Nano said.

"There was a time when I would have simply taken Liam home and forgotten about it," said Isabel. "Or, at most, turned to activism and the community. I don't think that will be sufficient. I don't think I find that acceptable anymore. If it's still going on, it's been going on far too long already. The people there would deserve better than years of incremental political struggle."

"What're you going to do?" Nano asked, somewhere between enthusiasm and apprehension.

Dr. Peculier looked at her, a very familiar sort of twinkle in her eye.

"I'm sure I'll figure something out," she said.


	30. Chapter 29

"What _happened?"_ Five screamed. She hurled a glass beaker as hard as she could and heard it smash against the wall.

"I don't know," Lalnable said.

"How did you fuck this up?" she demanded, rounding on him. "How could you _possibly_ have fucked this up?"

"I _didn't,"_ he whined. "Everything was just like we'd planned."

"Clearly it _wasn't,_ because it didn't _work!"_

"There must have been something we didn't account for," he said.

"Like _what?_ You said _nobody_ would be able to figure it out! You said _nobody_ saw!"

"Nobody did!" He paused, then allowed, "That I know of."

"Oh, that you _know_ of, oh, well, that's just fucking _fine_ then!" This time it was a flask that she dashed to bits. She threw it at Lalnable's head, but by the sound, she missed.

"I don't think it was that, anyway. They evacuated less than an hour before it was supposed to go off. I've checked, nobody was anywhere near the tanks then."

"Why weren't you watching _while it was happening?_ Why didn't you set it off early?"

"I was busy," he said stiffly.

"Busy? Busy with _what?_ Busy with _Rythian?_ If one more thing gets fucked up because of him—"

 _"Busy_ with arranging things for when we _leave_ tomorrow night," he interrupted. There was an edge to his voice. Five's arm ached. "I've left Rythian as much alone as I can without starving him."

"Don't act like that's some _grand gesture."_

"Just because it's part of the plan doesn't mean it's _easy,"_ he said. "I might just as well ask why _you_ weren't watching."

"Because I'm _blind,_ idiot!" she snarled. "Why didn't it _work_ _,_ Lalnable?"

"It did," he said, pouting. "The important bit did, anyway. The cleanup crew proved that."

"That's not the _point,"_ she said through clenched teeth. "The _point_ is that everybody _else_ got out scot-fucking-free!"

She threw another beaker. This one did not shatter, instead producing a meaty _thwack._

"We haven't got an infinite supply of those, you know," Lalnable said.

"You smash that fucking beaker _right now,"_ she ordered.

"Five—"

_"It's catharsis!"_

He sighed. There was a loud crash. She folded her arms huffily and turned away from him.

"Thanks," she said, lip curling.

He crossed the room and touched her shoulder.

"We've still got the grand finale," he said. "We'll be keeping an eye on it the whole time."

"I don't care," she said thickly. She was going to start crying, which was stupid and unfair. "I wanted _them_ to hurt and now it's all ruined. The whole block's cleared out, nobody's going to be anywhere near it."

He leaned down and kissed her head, right on the surgery scar. She swatted at him, without much conviction.

"Well, that's something!" he said. "Terror abounds!"

"You're still missing the _point,"_ she sneered.

"We've got a bit of time," he said. "It's not too late to work something else out."

"I don't _want_ something else, I wanted _this."_ A pair of tears slid down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily. He knelt before her and took her face in his hands.

"Five," he said. "Can I tell you a story?"

She made the mistake of glancing at him, at those glowing red eyes fixed so lovingly on her. She sighed and wrinkled her nose and shrugged. His hands were warm and soft on her cheeks.

"Whatever," she said.

"One day," Lalnable said, playing with the hair at the back of her neck, "when the world is a chaos of fire and blood, you will have a throne of solid gold. And when you sit upon it, all the rich and the powerful will throw themselves at your feet like roses, and call you _queen,_ and gladly wear whatever shackles you would choose to adorn them with. William Strife will be one of them, Five. You'll send your willing slaves to scour the earth, and they will drag him and every last one of his pathetic cockroaches to your throne room, and you will _drown_ them in whatever cocktail of mutagens you want, and we'll hang them up in cages all round the palace grounds where you can prod them with the pointy end of your royal scepter whenever the fancy takes you."

His eyes narrowed to crescent blood-moons, and his thumbs stroked her cheeks.

"The mice escaped our little trap, my dear, but they won't fare so well when we burn the building down."

She cracked a smile, rolling her eyes. "When did you get poetic, Boss?" she asked.

"When I met you," he said. She snorted.

"Kiss-up," she accused.

He kissed her. "As often as possible," he said. "I can get you another tiramisu, if that would take some of the sting out of it."

She sniffled and made a face.

"Not really," she said. "The last one made me ill."

"Is there anything you _would_ like, then?"

She looked down at him. She combed her fingers through a lock of his fringe.

"Well," she said, "I mean, while you're down there. . . ."

* * *

 

Most of the evening was thus wasted, with a short break for dinner before wasting a large part of the night as well. By the time Lalnable finally tucked her in and left her with a kiss on the forehead, Five was so exhausted that she dropped off to sleep almost instantly.

But she dreamed.

It was white, and cold, and smelled of salt. There was always a humming, a whirr of white noise from machines she never saw. Blurred faces passed in and out, distant shapes in the gloom. She knew them by their voices, distorted through the glass. She knew them by their hands, cold and impersonal. They put her in jars, when she was very small, tanks when she was bigger. Half-baked memories squelched through her head, as blurred and foggy as her vision.

Glowing red eyes. A place different from here, a place she'd never seen and could never see the way it was in her memory. Names and words, a dozen or more computer languages, typeset neatly into her brain. As she grew, so too did the database in her head, a library of memories that weren't her own. She learned the names of her captors. She learned the strength of her Powers by killing one of them, the blood black and fizzing on her hands. Needles pricked her body in half a hundred places, scalpels dipped down towards her like silver vultures.

They'd put something in her head. She could feel it like a parasite under her skin, tangled around her spinal cord, sinking in millions of tinsel claws. She could scream, and it would clutch her with those claws, and everything would go dark. She could fight, and the claws would drag her down. She could weep and beg, and still that creature in her head snapped her out like a light, over and over and over. Every move she made, it moved with her; every breath she took fed it air. There was nothing she could do with that metal centipede wrapped around her spine, mandibles sunk inches deep into her brain. She beat her fists uselessly against the glass. She screamed, but no one was listening.

She had grown, but the only difference was that the jars they kept her in were bigger now.

Hands touched her arms, and she jolted awake, screaming and thrashing. The smells of burning cloth and burning flesh surrounded her. Twin red moons glowed out at her from the darkness.

"It's me, Five, it's me," Lalnable murmured, letting her thrash out of his grip, letting her strike him. "I'm here. It's all right."

All she could manage was panicked gasping. She grappled onto him, anything she could reach. He sat on her bed and she clung to him, sobbing into his chest. He stroked her hair, murmuring quiet comforts to her until the fog of terror lifted from her mind. She stayed curled against him, taking long, shuddering breaths, filling her lungs with the scent of him. She still couldn't stop shaking.

"What do you need?" Lalnable asked at last, when the silence had stretched long enough.

Five could only shake her head, her fists balled in his shirt. He kissed her hair and rubbed her back. She could feel his stolen heart beating in his chest. His thumb brushed the back of her neck, his lips touched the scar on her head.

"It's gone, Five," he said. "I took it out. It's all gone. They can't touch you anymore."

"Sh-show me," she stammered, her teeth chattering with the strength of her tremors.

He lifted her up, and she held tight to him. He took her down into the labs, got out the box, put the metal centipede in her hands. She felt it over, every leg and wire and hook, every joint and electrode.

Eventually, she let him take her back to her room. She did not sleep. He stayed with her until dawn.

* * *

 

Five spent most of the morning putting the finishing touches on Nano's phone. She'd been monitoring all her calls and texts, in and out, for almost two weeks now, but there were some final changes to make. She added a call blocker and dropped a couple of her contacts onto the blacklist, then turned off notifications from the voicemail. If she had the timing right, Nano was already on the ferry to Fair Isle and would have no reception whatsoever for the next twenty-four hours anyway.

Lalnable, for his part, bustled in and out of the lab almost constantly, toting carts and crates and trolleys out to the moving van parked outside. He wasn't terrifically obvious about checking in on her, but he did seem to walk past her door more than seemed necessary. It was comforting, if a bit tiresome.

She heard nothing from or about Rythian. She spent some time scheming about him anyway. Lalnable seemed determined to keep him, so she couldn't murder him outright. There was certainly plenty of fun to be had even without killing him, but as far as she was concerned he had outlived his usefulness the moment he'd _bitten her fucking thumb off._

She decided that, once the grand finale was taken care of, Rythian was going to have a tragic accident.

Preferably an exceptionally nasty one.

When she took a break for lunch, Lalnable was already in the kitchen, bustling about. He was humming to himself. Five rooted around in the fridge until she found a box of leftover tikka masala and stuck it in the microwave. Although Lalnable stayed judiciously out of her way, he seemed distracted. When she took her food to the table, he didn't come sit with her.

"What's he up to?" she asked, only thinly masking the annoyance in her voice.

"Hm? Oh," said Lalnable. "He seems to have fashioned a makeshift punching bag from a few of the quilts I left him with."

Five snorted. "Wouldn't've expected that much ingenuity from him."

"If necessity is the mother of invention, boredom is the father," Lalnable said. "It's nearly tempting to walk in on him, just for the look on his face."

"You'd better wait 'til he wears himself out first," said Five.

"I can handle him," Lalnable whined.

"Oh, I'm sure _you_ can," said Five. "But _I_ sure as fuck can't. Not on a level playing field, anyway. You're _sure_ your secret little room's secure?"

"Very sure," he said. "Don't worry about it, Five."

"Yeah, it's great to know you built an entire _room_ behind my back, makes you look _very_ trustworthy."

"I told you about it as soon as I used it," he said, pouting.

"And if I'd decided to snip your stupid infatuation with Rythian out of your head, would you still have told me?"

He hesitated.

"Afterwards, I'm sure I would have," he said, but there was distant thunder in his voice. Five rolled her shoulder and cracked her neck.

"At any rate, d'you want to have one more crack at him, before we go?" Five asked, keeping her tone light.

"If we've got the time," said Lalnable. The thunder was all gone. "We'll have the whole flight, after all."

She wrinkled her nose. "It'll get blood all over the jet. I wanted to keep the jet."

Leaning over, he kissed the top of her head. "All right," he said. "No blood on the plane."

"I'm not saying _no blood,_ I'm saying _if_ there's blood, _you've_ got to clean it up."

"Very fair," said Lalnable. He rested the crook of his elbow on her shoulder, draping his arm over her chest. "There _are_ ways that don't involve bleeding, though. We might give him his first treatment while we've got the time. I'm certain it'll be _excruciating."_

"Not sure I want to be donating blood at thirty thousand feet," Five said, wrinkling her nose.

"You could donate it here, it'll keep."

"Sure, and then when something _inevitably_ goes wrong with getting my bird, I'll be passing out on my fucking feet. Speaking of which, what are we going to do with _her_ on the plane?"

"Oh, I thought we'd just stuff her in the cargo hold," he said, and kissed her ear. "The lack of oxygen ought to keep her nice and docile."

"Or _dead."_

"Or dead," he allowed. "I've got enough of the House Blend to take care of her, too, if you'd prefer."

"That's too good for her," Five said, showing teeth. "Besides, she's got so little brains to start off with, it might turn her into a vegetable."

He snorted. "True. Have you got any ideas? We might have to trim her claws if we're going to keep her near the upholstery."

"D'you think she's stupid enough to jump out of the cargo hold if we put her down there with an oxygen mask?"

"God, maybe," said Lalnable. She could hear the grin in his voice. "We could put her in the cage in the cargo hold with an oxygen mask, if that tickles your fancy."

His dangling fingers wiggled, brushing her stomach. She slapped his wrist, not hard, then laced her fingers with his.

"Can you get a big enough cage on this short notice?"

"What do you mean?" said Lalnable. "You said you wanted one ages ago. It's just a matter of setting it up inside the cargo hold. The oxygen tanks might be a bit more difficult, but at least we've already got the mask."

Warmth welled in Five's chest, and she tipped her head back and let him kiss her.

"You always know just what to get me," she said.

"Mm, only—the best—for you—my dear," he said, interspersing his words with kisses on her neck. She wrapped a hand around his wrist—or at least as far as her fingers would reach—and pulled it a little farther down. Obligingly, he leaned into her, kissing her collarbones. She kept one hand around his wrist and tangled the other in his hair.

"Yeah?" she said. "I'll have one of your best, then."

He nibbled her neck, laying his other palm on her hip. She sighed, melting in his hands.

"Would you like to finish your lunch first, or after?" he asked, his lips brushing her skin.

"During," she said, grinning. "You'll assist."

He laughed. "While we're at it, are there any horizontal surfaces in here we _haven't_ fucked on? I'd hate to leave before thoroughly desecrating the place."

"After yesterday? Not many." She tugged on his wrist again, rutting against his hand. "But we could make a few more, if you feel like making a mess."

His hand left her hip, and there was a quiet, slimy noise. Sauce-slick fingers touched her parted lips and she wrapped her mouth around them, stealing the pinch of chicken and rice with her tongue. Lalnable trailed his fingers down her chin and neck and then, with a sharp and effortless yank, ripped her blouse open to continue smearing the sauce and saliva down her chest.

"I am," he said, _"always_ in favor of making a mess."

He dipped his head and licked her neck, slow and lingering. She moaned, and laughed, and drew a deep and euphoric breath.

"Boss," she said, "let's fucking _trash_ the place."

* * *

 

Somehow or other, Five had ended up alone on the jet with Rythian.

The hardest part was yet to come, and as much as Five liked to pretend she was integral to the operation, she'd already done pretty much all she could. There wasn't much use for a five-foot-nothing blind woman with fragile bones in a knock-down drag-out fight. Ideally no fighting would be involved, but even so, her prowess generally lay in less physical engagements than tonight's.

At the very least, Rythian was being quiet. This should have made it easier for her to focus on the rocket-science side of the plan, but was instead agitating her to no end. They were both in the cushiest part of the jet, hidden away on a small private runway outside Birmingham. Since Strife was not currently using this particular townhouse, it had been a simple matter to kill the guards and staff and bring their moving truck full of supplies in. Granted, Lalnable had done most of the actual killing, but Five had snuck in first to set off the EMP that had started the chaos.

Five was on her laptop, plotting trajectories and writing code four lines at a time (since that was all that could fit on the screen at the necessary font size), and Rythian was hog-tied in the aisle between the bathroom and the mini-bar. Lalnable had drugged him before stuffing him in the back of the van, but unfortunately there hadn't been time to really _hurt_ him.

She would've settled for a bit of whimpering. Incoherent begging would have been even better. She needed something to tune out. All the silence was making it hard to work. It left her too much space to worry about Lalnable.

With an exaggerated sigh, she saved her work and closed her laptop. She could just barely make out the dark blur of Rythian at the end of the corridor, unmoving, his breathing slow and deep.

"Oy," she said.

He didn't react. She cleared her throat and tried again.

 _"Oy!"_ she barked, loud enough that it hurt. This time he twitched, as though wakened from a deep sleep. Five smiled. "Morning, sleepy head."

Rythian mumbled something unintelligible, wriggling uselessly. Five set her laptop aside and crossed her legs, folding her hands on one knee.

"What was that?" she asked sweetly. "You know I can't understand you when you talk like that."

He took a few labored breaths and made some quiet, pained noises.

"Where. . . ?" he said at last.

Five rolled her eyes. "God, you're so _predictable,"_ she scoffed. "Haven't you ever got anything interesting to say? It's like you've barely got a brain in there at all. Use your eyes, idiot. Otherwise I'm revoking your eye-privileges."

He got very quiet. This time it was more gratifying than annoying.

"Where's Lalnable?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said, leering. "I wouldn't try anything stupid, though, I'll say that."

She heard him scuffling around, more of those little pained noises. It was too dark in the jet for her to make out anything more than a vague silhouette of him. There was a _thunk,_ presumably from him smacking into one of the walls, and then he settled.

"Comfy?" Five asked impertinently.

"Apart from the ropes," he said.

"Ooh, feeling salty, are we? I thought we would've beaten that out of you by now. Or _drugged_ it out, temporarily at least."

"I'm full of surprises," said Rythian. Five snorted.

"I think what _you_ are is habituating to the Boss's concoction," said Five. "Won't _that_ be miserable for you. Mostly what you're _full_ of is red jiggly bits. I should know, I've had my hands in there."

"How's your thumb, by the way?" Rythian sneered. "Speaking of having hands in places they shouldn't be."

"Oh, it's fine," she said lightly, while rage boiled in her chest. "How's your everything? Doing good? That's _fixable."_

"Come over here and fix it, then," he said. He didn't quite manage to hide the fact that his voice was shaking.

"God, you're so stupid," Five said. "What's this little plan then, sweetheart? Gonna knock me out and hobble off into the night? First off, it's not like we _need_ you for anything, and second of all, Lalnable would hunt you down and kill you, which is honestly the _ideal_ scenario. Maybe we could pick you off from the air, like an animal."

"Are you sure he would?" Rythian asked.

 _"Yes_ I'm fucking sure," she snapped, acid bubbling to her skin. "He'd snap your ugly neck in half a fucking _second_ if you hurt me."

"That's funny," said Rythian, "because _I_ bit your thumb off and the only person he hurt was _you."_

Five couldn't speak for a moment, rendered mute by rage. She leapt to her feet and stormed to the other end of the jet and stopped _just_ shy of kneeing Rythian in the head and summarily electrocuting herself.

Instead, she dropped to her knees and grabbed for his ears. He must have managed to wriggle his arms and legs around in front of him, because as soon as she leaned in he kicked her in the chest with both feet. Five tumbled back. Rythian scrambled. She leapt on him, knocked him over. She grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head against the floor until he stopped kicking.

Staggering to her feet, she searched the plane in a fury, looking for anything she could hit him with. Her vision, already dim and blurry, was further obscured by a red haze. Rythian's gasping was like screws driven into her ears. Sharp pain suffused her fingers, fractured bones from the altercation, but she barely felt it.

In a storage compartment, she found a shapely wooden cane. She rounded on Rythian, ablaze with the fervor of her hatred. He was wriggling towards the door. Screaming fire through her teeth, Five sprinted the length of the jet and brought the cane down two-handed on his arm.

He yelped and twitched, and she hit him again, and again, as hard as she could, face and arms and chest and legs. He started out thrashing, but after nine strokes he curled up and tried to shield his face, and for that she beat him over the head, and then across his hunched back until the strength of her limbs gave out and she was forced to step away, panting. He stayed where he was, shivering and whimpering, pathetic. She shoved him over with the end of the cane and spat in his face.

"Next time you hit me, I'll fucking kill you," she snarled.

His only response was more pathetic whimpering. Five stalked off and locked herself in the cockpit to cry.


	31. Chapter 30

The first thing Nano saw was the lighthouse, scything pale light through the cold, gray drizzle. The sea had grown choppy, unsettled, like a child tossing and turning in fruitless pursuit of sleep. After another two minutes, the island emerged from the obscuring fog. It was a small, craggy thing, and the grayness of the sea and the rain had seeped into it, soaked through it to the bones. It lay flat against the water like a scab, misshapen and lumpy. It seemed to be sheer cliffs on all sides. She could see no other lights but the lighthouse, perched on a protruding knob at the south end of the island.

There was no fencing or razor wire. Nano wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not.

Painstakingly, the ferry rounded the island, skirting along its eastern coast, past more looming cliffs, across more steely water. Jagged rocks jutted from the troughs between each wave, dark and slick and barren. The sea crashed against the cliffs in a constant, ever-shifting roar, drowning out the sound of the ferry's engines. The smell of salt and petrol was overwhelming. She saw not a single living creature, not in the sea nor on the rocks nor atop the battered cliffs. The cold mist swallowed everything more than thirty meters away, isolating them with the hungry gnashing of the sea against the land.

At last, they came to an inlet where the sea was calmer, and the troubled rocking of the ferry settled to a more regular sway. Low hills rose all around them, smooth and rounded, covered in mud and hardy grasses. A single pier jutted out into the water, barely large enough to moor one boat to.

There were two people standing on the pier as the ferry approached, one slight and wearing a white doctor's coat, one hulking and dressed in gray. Nano lost sight of them as the ferry moored and she and Isabel collected their things. A small gangplank was set down, and the two of them disembarked while the crew prepared to haul their various supplies from the ferry to the pier.

The man in the doctor's coat stood and watched Nano and Isabel as they came to stand before him, his hands clasped behind his back, rolling up onto his toes and back onto his heels. He was smiling at some private joke, his dark hair swept back from his forehead, his green eyes glittering.

Despite the freezing rain, he was completely dry.

"You're fifteen minutes late," he said warmly, his accent clipped and proper. He had to raise his voice a little to be heard over the distant crashing of the sea.

"My God," Isabel breathed. She took a step forward, one hand outstretched, and then stopped. Her hand fell back to her side.

Nilesy—Liam—glanced at her and raised his eyebrows. She had gone white as milk. He didn't say anything, just looked her up and down and then returned his attention to Nano.

"How—" Nano sputtered, at a total loss. "You—but how—"

His smile widened into a grin. It was a bizarre sight—unlike Nilesy, and unlike Vee, on him the expression was perfectly symmetrical.

"Would you care for a tour?" he asked, presenting the island to them.

"I . . . I think we would like that," Isabel said faintly. Liam gave her a look normally reserved for bothersome flies.

"Not you," he said. "You'll go to the waiting room and stay there until I send for you."

Isabel bristled, but then visibly bit her tongue. She let out her breath, slowly.

"Will I be safe?" she asked.

Liam gave her a long, silent look, the corners of his mouth slowly curling upward. He turned away from her as though she'd simply ceased to exist.

"Nano?" he said brightly. "Shall we?"

"Liam, I . . . I would appreciate it if you'd answer Dr. Peculier's question," Nano said.

"I'm sure you would," he said. He turned on his heel and started back down the pier. "Come along!"

"I—I don't—" Nano stammered, looking between him and Isabel. Isabel rolled her teary eyes, something between a smile and a sneer on her face.

"I'll tell you one thing," she said, her voice tremulous with false levity. "That's _certainly_ Liam."

"Addie," Liam was saying to the bulky person at the end of the pier, "would you escort our other guest to the waiting room, please? I'm concerned she might get lost, and we certainly don't want her stumbling into the Strachan Wing. Somebody might forget to let her back out."

"Yessir, Mr. Liam," said Addie. They lumbered back down the dock and came to stand in front of Isabel. Their eyes were slightly unfocused, their face pulled into a frown of mild concentration. Isabel lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Addie offered their arm, somewhat sheepishly.

Isabel blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it again. She linked her arm with Addie's, as though they were leading her into a fancy dress ball. The two of them set off together down a muddy footpath, up over one of the low hills and back towards the south side of the island. Liam watched them go, smiling to himself. Nano approached cautiously and came to stand next to him. She was struck, for the first time in a long time, with the difference in height between the two of them—he had a good six inches on her, and always had, but they were looking like particularly large inches today.

"Honestly, I just wanted to see what she'd do," Liam said, clearly amused. He turned back to Nano and extended a hand. "We've never been properly introduced. I'm Liam."

"I'm . . . Nano," she said, taking his hand carefully. His grip was like iron.

"Really our only introduction was when you tied Nilesy to a bed for sixteen hours and refused to let us leave until I literally begged you," he said brightly.

Nano went cold all over. She swallowed. His hand was crushing hers.

"I'm . . . very sorry," she said. "It must have been horrible for you, and I'm sorry that I contributed to it."

"And I forgive you!" Liam said. He clapped her on the shoulder, let go of her hand, and turned smartly, setting off at a leisurely pace. Nano followed, slogging up the muddy slope after him. They came over the small hill, and the island stretched away at a shallow incline. There was a small cluster of buildings about a mile off to the south, huddled against the fog and the rain, connected by covered walkways. Isabel and Addie were taking the path down to them, still arm-in-arm, distant enough that Nano couldn't have heard them over the roar of the sea if they were speaking. To the north, the island rose a little further and then shattered into sheer cliffs. White and black specks dotting the brown grasses were probably birds. When the wind gusted just right, Nano could hear the shrieking of gulls.

"I think you'll find that Fair Isle has come a long way in the brief time it's been under new management," Liam said, leading her down the muddy path to the cluster of buildings. "We've cleaned the place up, full overhaul of the staff, got rid of all the fencing and razor wire, _what_ an eyesore. We're working on getting the bars off the windows, but that's taking a bit more time. We lost the guest house in the swap over, unfortunately, otherwise I'd let you set your things down and offer you a room."

He gestured casually to a building hunkered against the hillside like a surly gull. Half of it was in splinters, bashed wide open by some dreadful force, like a tidal wave or a hurricane. The other half had all its windows blown out and a large number of holes in the walls.

"Assuming you want to stay," Liam went on casually, "which I can certainly understand if you don't. Most people don't. Even the ferry doesn't stay overnight. It leaves at eight, by the way. We replaced the ferryman too, of course, but it's got to run on schedule or else people will be upset."

"What . . . did you do with the last ferryman?" Nano asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"Dashed her brains out on the rocks," Liam said, chipper. He looked back at Nano, took in her horrified expression, and laughed. "No, we just fired her. I only wondered if you'd believe me. I think we'll see the main building first, I can introduce you to the staff and you can stop off for something to eat, if you fancy."

"I don't appreciate being toyed with," Nano said, bristling.

"No one's _toying,_ Nano," he assured her. "It's called a _joke."_

"I don't find it very funny," she said.

"That's because you're no fun," said Liam.

"It's because I'm a _decent human being!"_

He regarded her out of the corners of his eyes, smiling to himself.

"Are you?" he inquired.

Nano dropped back a pace or two. Her skin was prickling, and not just from the icy drizzle.

"Mr. Liam! Mr. Liam!"

A tiny, towheaded child came dashing from the ruins of the guest house, her feet making loud _splat-splat_ noises in the mud. Liam stopped and turned to look at her. The child darted up to him and presented him with a fully-grown seagull, which was pecking her irritably. She was wearing a white dress, gray woolen stockings, black shoes, and a yellow raincoat that was three sizes too big for her. All of them were smeared with brown mud.

"I've caught another one!" she declared, breathless.

"My God, so you have," said Liam, crouching down and resting his forearms on his knees. "One day you're going to tell me how you manage it."

"Am not," said the child.

"I daresay I'll figure it out," said Liam, his eyes sparkling. "What sort is it?"

"'S a seagull," the child said, glancing at Nano bashfully.

"Oh, come now, I know you know better than that," said Liam. "What sort of seagull?"

"Glaucous gull," she mumbled, blushing. "'S got the wings."

_"Ex-_ cellent, I knew you knew it," he said. He ruffled the child's hair and stood back up, turning to Nano. "Jen, this is my friend, Dr. Nano. Nano, this is Jennifer Flax."

Nano's blood curdled, frost rimed her bones. Liam was watching her intently, his eyes glittering and gemstone-hard.

"Um," Nano said. "H-hi, Jen. It's . . . it's very good to meet you."

"Hi, Ms. Doctor Nano," Jen said dutifully.

"Jen's one of our newest patients," Liam said, his voice low and soft. His hand was still resting on the back of the child's head. "She got here a few days before I did."

"I—I see," said Nano.

Liam looked down at Jen, adopting a friendly smile.

"Why don't you show Dr. Nano your trick?" he asked her.

"But," said Jen, hefting the seagull, which pecked her again.

"You'll have to let him go sooner or later, Jen," Liam said.

Jen pouted, looking between Liam and her seagull.

"You can always catch another," said Liam. "Although I shudder to think what'll you get next. An albatross, if you keep going the way you have been."

"No I _couldn't,"_ Jen said, wrinkling her nose. "There's no albatrosseses in the Atlantic. They're only northern Pacific and Southern Ocean. I'd never get an albatross here."

"No? Maybe a swan, then."

"Do _not_ encourage that child to catch swans," Nano warned.

Jen took a step back, hiding behind Liam's leg. Liam turned a baleful gaze on Nano.

"Now you've gone and embarrassed her," he said, shaking his head. The gull pecked him in the leg. He stepped away and, once again, crouched down to face Jen. "Don't mind Dr. Nano, Jen, she's a wet blanket."

Jen frowned, looking dubiously at Nano.

"Which is an idiom that means she's no fun, and she doesn't like for anybody else to have fun, either," Liam clarified. "I think she'll be _very_ impressed if you show her the trick, though."

"Well," Jen said, looking down at the gull.

Liam put a hand on her arm, encouraging. "You haven't got to if you don't want to. I just think it's amazing and I like to brag about you. Dr. Nano's Powered too, did you know?"

"She is?" said Jen, perking up.

"She is!" Liam confirmed, smiling broadly. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind showing you her trick, too, if you ask nicely."

The gull, displeased, let out a stream of white goop from its tail end. Jen shrieked and dodged out of the way, narrowly missing getting the excrement on her dress. She promptly chucked the gull as high into the air as she could. It scrambled to get its wings underneath it, then flapped off in a great hurry.

_"Annnnd_ it seems the decision has been made for us," Liam said, amused.

"I like birds, but they're gross," said Jen.

"Yes, and speaking of which, you'd better wash your hands first thing," said Liam.

"I _know,"_ said Jen, planting her fists on her hips. "They carry E-coli and antibiotic-resistant bacterial strains."

"Dear God," Liam muttered. "And you're _sure_ you can't wear gloves when you go out catching them?"

"No," said Jen.

"Then please, Jen, _please,_ for the sake of my sanity, be very _very_ thorough when you wash your hands."

"I am," she said, pouting.

"And don't touch your face or ears at all."

"I _won't,"_ said Jen, rolling her eyes.

"Thank you," said Liam. He sighed. "Now. Would you like to show Dr. Nano your trick? The other trick, apart from catching birds."

Jen glanced at Nano, and fidgeted, and looked back to Liam. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Her little hands reached up to grab his coat, but he caught her forearms—gently, very gently—before they got there.

"I can do that," he said. "And please don't put your antibiotic-resistant gull-hands on my coat. I'll have to get another and this one fits so well."

Jen looked down at her hands and blushed. "Sorry," she said.

"It's all right," said Liam. He let go of her, patted her shoulder, and got to his feet. "She'd like me to show you mine, first. So, a bit of a demonstration."

"I—I've seen it before," Nano said, puzzled.

Liam smiled at her. "Not mine, you haven't," he said.

He raised one hand. The rain _stopped._

Millions of tiny droplets hung frozen in the air, glittering. Nano took a step back and felt them prickle against her neck. She looked up and saw a sheet of water thickening above her. It spanned the entire island, a massive, shimmering dome like a force field.

"Let's put this back, shall we?" Liam said. He flicked his hand. There was a tremendous roar, and the rain and all the mist on the island shot up into the sky, puncturing the massive sheet above them, leaving the air clear and dry. Jen clapped her hands and shrieked, delighted. Liam twirled his hand, one finger upraised, and the water overhead spiraled away into the sea, running off the invisible dome in a great frothing waterfall. The rain started to sift back down again, gentle as ever, and Liam took a bow.

"One handed," he said, regarding Nano smugly. "You should see what I can do with two."

"Showoff!" Jen accused.

"You _asked_ me to!" Liam exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest. "There's nothing wrong with a little showing off now and again."

Jen wrinkled her nose at him. "Is it my go now?" she asked.

"If you'd like," said Liam.

"Yeah, I guess," said Jen.

"Go and get some distance, then!" he said, ushering her gently away from him. "Go on, impress me!"

Jen hurried away, about thirty feet, glancing back at Liam. He nodded, encouraging. She glanced at Nano, who gestured an invitation to her.

"Okay," Jen said, raising her reedy voice to be heard over the roar of the surf. "Here I go!"

Her face scrunched up, she bowed her head and held her clenched fists to her chest. Her cheeks reddened, like she was holding her breath.

All of a sudden, her shoes turned gold and the ground beneath exploded into golden fractals, washing out in a huge circular wave. Liam yelped and jumped back just before the tide brushed his toes. Jen straightened up, going white.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry—"

As quickly as it had come, the golden circle retreated again, sinking into the ground and vanishing. Liam hurried over to Jen and crouched in front of her, taking her face in his hands.

"No, no, it's all right, Jen, it's all right, I'm not hurt," he assured her. She was crying already, great big tears sliding down her face, her nose running. "That was very _very_ good, Jen. _Ex_ -cellently done."

"Y-yeah?" she said. She sniffled. He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Yeah!" he said, smiling. "That's got to be twice as big as last time!"

"I—I've been practicing," she offered, her voice shaking.

"It shows!" said Liam. "I'm sure Dr. Nano is very impressed."

He looked over at her. There was a threat in his expression.

"Very!" said Nano. "That's—that's really amazing, Jen! I've never seen anything like it."

The smile that curled out across Liam's lips was positively reptilian. He turned back to Jen and kissed her forehead.

"Now go inside and wash your hands," he said. "You'll catch your death out here."

Jen nodded, and he patted her cheek and stood up. She darted off towards the large, white buildings below. Liam watched her as she ran, his arms folded. He half-turned to Nano and raised an eyebrow.

_"Never seen anything like it?"_ he repeated, sarcastic.

"It's a turn of phrase!" Nano said, flushing.

"It's the most dishonest thing I believe I've ever heard you say," said Liam. "I'm absolutely delighted. Come on! Plenty to see."

And he started off again, leaving Nano to trail along after him.

Down in the main building, there was a small administrative desk and a large woman in a security uniform. Liam chatted with her amicably while he changed into a different pair of shoes that had been left just inside the door. He was, she noticed, still completely dry, while Nano herself was dripping from the rain. At least it was warmer inside. She took the brief interlude to set her bag down and analyze her surroundings.

On the surface of it, it was a fairly innocuous place. The floors and walls were white and clean, the lights bright and friendly. There were potted plants dotting the atrium, art on the walls, and comfortable-looking furniture scattered about, presumably for guests. She noted that there were, indeed, bars on the windows, although some of them were bent and a few had been pulled off. There were two long corridors leading obliquely away from the entry room, one to the left and one to the right, and a slow trickle of people wandered through. Many of them were visibly Powered, and several had the shambling, doe-eyed look that Addie from the dock had worn.

It was, she realized, the same sort of vacant placidity that she'd seen in the depths of the YogLabs prisons.

A moment later, she also realized that Liam's innocuous chatter had stopped, and that he was looking at her.

"What?" she said, blinking out of her reverie.

"I said you'll have to take your shoes off," he said. "Otherwise you'll track mud all over the place, and that's _highly_ discourteous."

"Oh," said Nano. "D'you have . . . a spare pair of shoes I could borrow?"

"You won't need shoes," he assured her.

"I think I'd like to have them anyway," she said, straightening her spine and staring him down.

"All right," he said, shrugging. Once again, he started off immediately.

"Liam—" she began. He didn't so much as slow down.

Cursing under her breath, Nano pulled her shoes off and hurried after him in her socks. She caught him up and he spared her a smug little glance.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," she said.

"I'm sure you do," he said.

"It's _highly discourteous,"_ she said, her lip curling.

For just an instant, something flickered across Liam's face. It was difficult to tell what it was—anger, or fear, or annoyance—because it was replaced almost instantly by the same old smiling facade.

"You didn't _have_ to come after me," he said. "I didn't even ask you to."

"Oh, no, I'm not having you leave me alone in here with—"

She broke off, not quickly enough. Liam slowed and came to a stop at a corner between two corridors.

_"With?"_ he prompted, his voice soft.

"With—with no guide," she said lamely.

"With the _mad freaks,"_ he corrected, eyes glittering.

"That's not—"

"I don't know if you'd noticed, Nano, but we _mad freaks_ seem to be managing with a minimum of violence, which is more than anyone could say for the _sane_ people who came before us. Contrary to popular opinion, we're _not_ all violent murderers."

"I—I never said you were," she said thinly.

Liam grinned at her. "I couldn't possibly blame you if you did. Your primary frame of reference is _Vee,_ for God's sake." He cocked his head towards the lefthand corridor. "Come on, I'll show you the art room. We've repurposed it."

"In—into?" Nano asked, thrown off-balance for the umpteenth time that day. She trailed after him down the corridor. It did not escape her attention that everyone else in the corridor got very far out of Liam's way long before he got to them.

"From," he said. "Granted, it was a _bit_ of a struggle to get the supplies in, but we managed it. Martyn's very capable, occasionally."

"Wait, Martyn—Martyn _Littlewood?"_ Nano cried, horrified and dreading.

"Haven't the foggiest," said Liam.

"Blond, phytokinesthete?" Nano prompted. Her heart was in her throat.

"Why, yes," said Liam, eyeing her. "A friend of yours?"

"A—a coworker, holy shit, I thought he was _dead!"_

"Purely out of curiosity, what did he _do_ at YogLabs?" Liam asked. Nano was on the verge of answering when the slight edge to his voice caught up with her.

"He didn't work with Xephos," she said.

"I didn't ask that," Liam said. "I asked what he did. Division, I presume."

"Well—yes," said Nano. "But look, he got sent here because he pushed back, because he wasn't—"

"You seem to be under the impression that I'm considering hurting him," Liam interrupted. "I'm not. There wouldn't be any point."

"What does that mean?" Nano asked, more because she felt she was supposed to than because she actually expected an answer.

"You'll see," Liam said, predictably. He arrived at a door seemingly no different than any other and tugged it open, standing aside. "After you."

Cautiously, Nano entered the room.

It looked like a classroom, only all the desks had been shoved up against the walls. It was brightly lit, colorful, amateurish art hanging on the walls. The floor was dotted with people, several of them teenagers, drawing and painting and chatting with each other. Up against one wall, directly under a window, Martyn Littlewood sat on a desk, industriously filling something in with a colored pencil. Nano stood very still, just observing. He didn't seem particularly different than when she'd last seen him—there was a look of placid concentration on his face; he was dressed mostly in white; there was a slight greenish cast to his skin. Liam moved past Nano as she stood staring and beckoned her with a tilt of the head. He went to Martyn's side and touched his arm.

"Martyn," he said, "I've brought a friend."

"Oh?" said Martyn, looking up. His eyes had that vague, unfocused look. Nano's stomach shriveled up. She picked her way over to him.

"Um," she said, "hi, Martyn."

He blinked at her, swaying slightly. A broad grin broke out across his face.

"Oh, hi Nano!" he said. "It's been ages. Long time no see! How've you been?"

"I—I've been all right, Martyn," said Nano. "Busy. Very busy. Um. How—how're you?"

Martyn paused. He looked at Liam, who gestured an encouragement to him.

"I'm good," Martyn said. "I'm really good, now. I get to do some secretary stuff sometimes, that's nice. It's much nicer than what I used to do. They put me in a room where the light was all wrong."

A cloud scudded across his sunny disposition, and he shivered. Liam touched his arm again.

"We got rid of that room, Martyn," he said gently. "Remember? And we got rid of Dr. MacLaughlin, too."

"Right," said Martyn. He brightened again. "Right! It's all good now. Are you staying? Only I never thought you were crazy. Did Dr. Xephos send you here, too?"

"N-no, Martyn, no, I'm just visiting," Nano said, feeling ill. "And . . . Dr. Xephos is dead."

"Oh," said Martyn. "Right, I knew that. I did know that, right?"

"You did," said Liam, with that same faint amusement he'd been pointing at Nano since she'd arrived.

"Good," said Martyn, sagging with relief. "I thought I knew that, but I wasn't sure. Lots of stuff falls out of my head. It's because of the room where the lights were wrong."

"Sure," said Nano. "I—I can see how that would . . . happen."

"I mostly just draw, now," Martyn said. "It's really nice. People like the things I draw. D'you want to see some of them?"

"Nano's a bit pressed for time at the moment, Martyn," Liam said. "I'm giving her a tour, and she's planning on taking the ferry back. Maybe later, you can show her your art, if there's time." He turned to Nano and added, "It's very good."

"Oh, okay," said Martyn. "Is she staying?"

"No, just visiting," said Liam. "Martyn, do you think you could do something for me?"

"Sure," said Martyn. "What d'you need?"

"I've got another guest in the waiting room," said Liam. "Could you wait with her until I call you? She won't be any trouble. I'm sure she could use some friendly company."

"Yeah, I'm down with that," said Martyn. He set aside his paper and pencils, getting to his feet. "Should I go now?"

"If it's convenient," Liam demurred.

"Sure," said Martyn.

"Do you remember how to get to the waiting room?"

"Yeah, of course," said Martyn, pouting.

"How do you get to the waiting room, Martyn?"

He opened his mouth. He frowned. He closed his mouth again, pouting.

"Give me a piece of paper and a pencil," Liam sighed, holding out a hand. Martyn gave him the implements, and he scribbled down a brief set of directions. "Just follow that. All right?"

"All right," said Martyn, blushing a pale green. "Thanks, Mr. Xephos."

The room went _dead_ silent. Even the ever-present roar of the surf outside had stopped. A pencil snapped. Liam straightened up very, very slowly.

"Martyn," he said softly. "What have I told you to call me?"

"He forgets, Mr. Liam," someone said.

"I'm aware of that, Courtney, and don't give him hints," Liam said, not looking away from Martyn.

"Oh, right," said Martyn. "Sorry, Mr. Liam."

A wave broke on the cliffs outside. There was a collective letting-out of breath. Liam touched Martyn's arm again.

"Forgiven," he said. "Off you go. I'm sure our guest is feeling very lonely just now."

"Okay," said Martyn. He wandered out of the room, peering at the paper in his hands. Everyone was very intent upon their artwork all of a sudden.

"Well!" Liam said, turning a sunny smile on Nano. "Shall we continue on?"

"What happened to Dr. MacLaughlin?" she asked, not expecting anything remotely resembling an answer.

"Oh, we fed her a peach pit and Martyn grew a lovely tree outside the Strachan Wing, to remind the others," Liam said.

"That's not _funny,"_ she snapped.

"I'm not joking," Liam said, with something approaching rapture. "I'll show you."

All the blood drained out of Nano's face. Liam's eyes glittered.

"Assuming you want to see?" he added, playful.

"Fine," said Nano. She stalked out of the room before he could drag her off again. As she yanked open the door, she heard Liam comment aside.

"That's a lovely picture, Courtney," he said. "We should hang that one up!"

Nano stood in the corridor for a moment, shaking, fuming. She had half a mind to take off after Martyn, find him and Dr. Peculier and get back on the ferry _right then,_ get the hell out of here before somebody died, or worse.

Before she could muster her courage, Liam stepped out into the corridor next to her. He shut the door quietly behind him, watching her with his head to one side.

"You haven't _got_ to go look, you know," he said. "I'm only excited about it because if we can keep it alive, we'll have fresh peaches next year."

"I'm _going_ to go look, because I don't _believe_ you," Nano snapped.

"Understandable," said Liam. "I suppose I _am_ the boy who cried murder."

"Are you enjoying this?" she demanded. "Are you having fun?"

"God, yes," said Liam, grinning. "I've been planning your visit for days. So far it's _everything_ I'd hoped."

He set off, and she stood there fuming in her socks. She had half a mind to haul off and slap the little bastard.

Which thought was immediately followed by the sobering realization that Xephos had probably done exactly that, and with some frequency.

Nano swallowed down the bitter taste on her tongue and followed after Liam.


	32. Chapter 31

To his credit, Liam did allow Nano to retrieve her shoes before leading her out into the rain again. The sun was still high in the sky, despite it being nearly five o'clock. Liam led her around the main building to another that squatted some distance behind it, connected by a covered walkway. The walkway had been utterly smashed in the middle, in splinters just like the guest house.

"What happened there?" Nano asked, mostly to keep her mind off the coming spectacle, whatever it may have been.

"I ran into Paul," Liam said, a dreamlike quality to his voice. "I remembered Paul. He's one of the ones I remembered. Isn't it odd, that he kept on working here for seventeen years? He must have enjoyed the work, hahah."

Nano did not inquire further.

She saw the tree before they got to it, budding twigs poking up above the roof of the ancillary building, whipping in the stiff wind. She almost backed out then and there—but stubborn pride kept her following after Liam, a flat refusal to appear shaken in front of him. If he was going to play these little games, she wasn't going to allow him any satisfaction out of them.

They rounded the corner of the building. Liam gestured like a farmer showing off his crop.

_"That's_ what happened to Dr. MacLaughlin," he said proudly.

The tree was about as thick as Nano's wrist, its bark green, its branches broad. It was sprouting from the abdomen of a rotting corpse. From the smell, it couldn't have been more than a few days old. The face was still intact, apart from an incursion of maggots in one eye.

Nano turned away before she threw up.

"Granted," Liam said, "the others can only see the tree, but they know."

She didn't say anything. If she'd opened her mouth, she wouldn't have been able to keep from screaming, or vomiting, or _something._ Liam started off again, and Nano followed blindly, taking any excuse not to be _here_ anymore. He led her to the covered walkway, and then into the ancillary building. There was another small atrium, this one uninhabited. They came to a very thick steel door with no window. Above it, the words _STRACHAN WING_ were printed in a stark, severe font.

"And this is where we keep the doctors!" Liam said brightly. He banged on the door with the flat of his hand. _"H_ _e_ _lloooo, doctors!"_

From behind the door, there came a frantic clamor. Liam grinned at Nano.

"I don't normally visit," he said. "Vee drops in as-needed to clean up the bodies." He moved off again, his pace leisurely. "I leave the keys on the medicine counter. Keeps things fair."

"Fair?" Nano croaked. "Fair for . . . who?"

He made a magnanimous gesture, not looking back at her. "Everyone," he said.

"It's—it's _inhumane,_ is what it is!" she stammered.

Liam stopped. He turned slowly, viperous. Nano took an involuntary step back. The way he was looking at her made her skin crawl, like he could see straight through her forehead and read her thoughts like a newspaper.

"Would you care to see _inhumane,_ Nano?" he said softly. "Would you like to see what that looks like?"

"You lay a hand on me and you'll be pulling back a stump," she warned.

Liam's expression did not change.

"No," he said. "That won't be necessary."

He turned his back and walked away. Nano fought with herself for a moment before following.

Liam led her to a back stairwell, and down, into another corridor that must have been underground. It was absolutely silent save for their footsteps. She couldn't even hear the surf outside. The walls were bleach-white, the floors spotless, the fluorescent lights bright and unflattering.

Down the corridor, through a steel door with a grating over the tiny window. Nano followed Liam in. She flinched when the door swung shut behind her.

There were machines, tables, cabinets and chairs. There was an apparatus like a weightlifting bench, with several accessory machines. It had straps, and wires, and electrodes. Liam walked over to it and laid a hand on one of the machines, distant, enspelled.

_"Inhumane,"_ he said quietly, "is tying down a seven-year-old child and inducing seizures for an hour a day. _Inhumane_ is forcing tubing down that child's throat to administer medication. _Inhumane_ is locking people up in solitary confinement, toying with their brains—in many cases irreparably damaging them—and calling it _charity_ to let them see the sky once a week. _Inhumane,_ Nano, is what they did to Jennifer Flax."

It wasn't the punchline she'd been expecting, and it knocked the breath out of her. Without meaning to, she pictured that tiny, frail child trapped in the cold grasp of these machines, screaming, begging. She had to look away.

"No one stopped it," Liam said. "In seventeen years, _nobody_ stopped it. So I had to. I could have killed them all. I could have swatted them like flies. But I didn't, because they aren't all my dragons to kill. I didn't, because once you're dead, you can't be afraid or in pain. I didn't, because until Martyn killed Dr. MacLaughlin with his own hands, he was too frightened to even speak. So I leave the keys on the medicine counter, Nano, because it keeps things _fair."_

She didn't respond. There was nothing she could possibly have said. One hand was over her mouth. Tears were welling in her eyes.

Liam looked up. His face was drawn, grim. Slowly, he returned to her side. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I think that's enough of the tour," he said. "We'll go to my office. We'll talk."

Nano nodded, and he ushered her from the room. The heavy _thud_ of the door behind her was something of a comfort.

* * *

 

Liam dropped into the chair behind the large oak desk and leaned back, steepling his fingers.

"I assume you have questions," he said, the corners of his mouth curled upward.

Nano took a moment to compose herself, gather her thoughts. The office was large, although mostly barren. There were two more chairs on Nano's side of the desk, a couple of cabinets with photographs and plastic flowers and a novelty globe on them, a painting of a sailboat hung up on one wall. The carpet was threadbare, the walls paneled in stained pine. Two high, barred windows spilled diffuse gray light into the room. There were an awful lot of papers on the desk, although they were meticulously organized. Liam watched her with bright-eyed interest, apparently recovered from the somber mood of the Strachan Wing.

"Right," said Nano. "So . . . _how?"_

"Nano," said Liam, shaking his head. "I spent seventeen years _obsessing_ over what I'd do if I ended up back here. Did you really think I wouldn't have a plan?"

"I . . . didn't think you'd be able to implement one," she said carefully.

"Occasionally, having two extra sets of hands to carry your traumas for you is exceedingly helpful," Liam said, examining his fingernails.

"That's fair," Nano said. "Speaking of which. Are—is Nilesy . . . about?"

He looked up at her, annoyed. "What would you want _Nilesy_ for?"

"I was only wondering," she said, holding her hands up in surrender.

"You weren't," said Liam. His eyes were hard, his gaze unwavering. "I make you uncomfortable, that's clear enough. You'd much rather talk to him because he's what you're _used_ to. You think he wouldn't condone what I've done here, because you don't, and you're desperate for validation. Unfortunately, this is my show and I'm determined to run it."

"No one's saying you—"

"Rest assured, he's alive and well," Liam went on. "He's just having a long-needed _holiday."_

"Right," said Nano. "Sure."

He regarded her for a moment, calculating.

"I'm not what you expected, am I," he said.

She inclined her head. "There's—well, there's a lot more of your father in you than I . . . was prepared for."

"Around fifty percent, I'd say," Liam intoned. He dropped his gaze and sat forward. "And speaking of parentage. _Why_ did you bring her here, Nano?"

"I was trying to help you," Nano said. "They wouldn't let me come get you, only her. She sort of . . . smuggled me in."

"Last I checked, you're perfectly capable of stealing boats," he said. "You _were_ warned, Nano. You were _told_ what would happen."

"She's changed, Liam," Nano said, imploring. "She's as sorry as I've ever seen anyone. She wants to make reparations, she's—"

"She's a dead woman," Liam said coldly. "You were _told,_ Nano."

"You can't just murder her!" Nano cried. "She's come here to try and help you, she came here to _rescue_ you!"

"You know what would have been better than rescue?" he said. "Having this place shut down seventeen years ago. It's very clear how deep her _change_ runs, and it's remarkably shallow."

"That's not a capital offense! There's only so much a person can do, and she's done everything she could! God's sake, Liam, she's _sorry!"_

_"I don't give a fuck if she's sorry!"_ Liam snarled, slamming his hands down on the desk and leaping to his feet. There was such a thunderous crash of surf against the cliffs outside that it sounded like the whole island was collapsing. "After the absolute _hell_ I went through, after everything she _put_ me through, did you honestly think she could just swan in here with her flimsy apologies and make it all _better?_ If she groveled at my feet like a fucking _dog,_ she couldn't make up for what she did! There is no amount of _sorry_ in the world that can make this right! She dies, just like Dad died, and I throw her out with the rest of the _garbage."_

"This—this isn't you," Nano said, her throat constricted with fear. "This is Vee, this is—"

"Who do you think Vee _is,_ Nano?" Liam demanded. His eyes were diamond-hard, blazing with rage. "Who do you think _Nilesy_ is? It's all _me._ It has all, always, just been _me."_

Nano could only stare at him, tears welling in her eyes, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. Liam sat back down, the frothing tempest of his rage growing calm again.

"I've learned something, this past year," he said. "Mum and Dad were always very keen on me learning things. After seeing Nilesy go through hell—yet again—at the merciless hands of a man who was addicted to his misery, after he was raped and beaten and manipulated while everyone around us stood idly by, I _learned_ something, Nano."

He met her eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was low and dark and _cold._

"No one gets to hurt me and walk away," he said. "Never again."

"Liam," she whispered. "Please."

"I won't make you watch," he said. "I think you've seen enough. You can leave any time you like. You're welcome to wait on the ferry."

"You can't do this," she said, pleading.

"I think you'll find I can do whatever I want," he said.

"I'm not asking you to _forgive_ her," Nano said. "I'm asking you to let her _live!_ There's hundreds of Powered children who're alive today because she rescued them, there's hundreds more that need—"

"You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I care," he interrupted icily.

"You care about Jennifer Flax!"

Liam went very still. The muscles of his face twitched, like some expression was trying to get to the surface and was being forced down.

"And if I do?" he said.

"Liam, there's hundreds of other children just like her. Your mother is _helping_ those children, saving them from—from the kinds of things you've gone through."

"Clearly she's not doing a very good job."

"You can't save everyone," said Nano. "Nobody gets it right a hundred percent of the—"

Liam lifted a hand, two fingers raised, the others curled in towards his palm. Nano's chest tightened, like there was a great weight pressing on her sternum. Pain swelled into her jaw, and suddenly there wasn't enough air in the room.

"This is not up for discussion," Liam said softly.

"What—what are you—" she stammered. Something was terribly wrong, a sense of impending doom hanging like a lead blanket across her shoulders.

"Feel free to keep arguing, though," he continued, ignoring her.

Nano staggered back until she found the wall. Her head was spinning. She couldn't breathe. Liam wasn't even looking at her, just sitting with his elbow propped on the desk and his hand raised, his face grim and distant.

"I'm—sorry," she managed.

Liam relaxed his hand. Slowly, the pain and pressure began to recede. Nano sank to the floor, one hand pressed to her chest, sucking down huge lungfuls of air. With blurred vision, she saw Liam press a button on his desk intercom.

"Martyn?" he said. "Could you send Dr. Peculier to my office, please?"

_"_ _Yeah, okay_ _,"_ said Martyn. _"D'you want me to go with her?"_

"No, I don't think she'll be any trouble," said Liam.

_"All right. I'll send her up. Anything else you need?"_

"Not at the moment, thank you."

_"Okay. I'll send her up."_

"Thank you, Martyn."

He took his finger off the button. There was a long, long silence.

"You haven't got to stay," Liam said again.

Nano didn't say anything, partially because she wasn't sure he wouldn't kill her for it, and partially because there was nothing _to_ say.

Another three minutes passed. There was a short, decisive knock at the door.

"Come in," said Liam.

Isabel came into the room. Liam stood up. The door closed behind her.

She was crying, slow, steady tears that dripped from her chin and made her nose run. Her lip was quivering, but her mouth was trying to smile anyway.

Liam stared back at her, his fists clenched.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice scarcely a whisper. "And I know it changes nothing. I know I deserve the same as Llewellyn. I know. I just wanted—to see you. To help, if you needed helping. I just wanted to see you, once, before I died. And I've seen you. And I am so, so _proud_ of you, Liam. I'm so proud of everything you've built out of—out of the mess we left you with. It wasn't fair, what Llewellyn and I demanded of you, it wasn't fair what we . . . what we put you through, none of it was ever fair, and I should never have left you with him—"

Liam rounded the desk and stumbled across the room and flung his arms around her, weeping.

_"Mum,"_ he said, hoarse and broken and suddenly very small.

"Darling," she choked, clutching him to her.

"Where've you _been?_ Where did you _go?_ Why? _Why?"_

"Because I was frightened, darling," she said. "Because I was frightened and bigoted and cruel. And I know I'm seventeen years too late. I know. And I'm sorry, darling, I'm so sorry. . . ."

Liam shook his head, clutching her tighter. She stroked his hair, murmuring to him while he shivered, while he wept. Minutes passed. Liam sniffled. A smile cracked open against Isabel's shoulder.

"When . . . when did you get so _short,_ Mum?" he asked, his voice still thick with tears.

"About the same time I got old," she responded gently.

"You're not old," he said.

"And you're not tall. I've stunted you, with my short genes. It's not a bad thing, though. You could've taken after your father and banged your head on every doorway you ever met."

Liam laughed, and sniffled, and pressed his forehead to her shoulder.

"I missed you," he said. "I hate you, but I missed you."

"And you've every right to," she said. "I'm just glad you're all right, darling."

He was quiet for another long moment.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked at last.

"No," said Isabel. "No, darling, of course not."

"Everyone thinks I've done awful things," Liam said. "But—"

He broke off. Isabel took him by the shoulders, gently, and held him at arm's length. He kept his eyes averted.

"But?" she asked.

"If I tell you, you'll be angry," he said.

"I promise I won't be."

"Then you're lying," he said, his eyes narrowing. His fists clenched at his sides. "You _will_ be angry, and you'll try to hurt me."

Carefully, Isabel let go of him and took two steps backwards. She raised her hands, surrendering.

"I may get angry," she conceded. "But I won't lift a finger against you."

Liam stood still for the space of three breaths.

"It wasn't me who did the awful things," he said.

"Yes," said Isabel, "I know."

With eyes filled with puzzlement, he looked up at her.

"You . . . _know?"_ he said.

"Yes," she repeated. "Nano told me about Nilesy and Vee. I was told about your dissociative identity disorder—"

"By who?" he snapped, going suddenly sharp.

"By . . . watching the trial, darling," Isabel admitted.

"So you _weren't_ told, you _found out,"_ Liam said.

"I . . . yes," said Isabel, clearly uncomfortable. "That's certainly more accurate."

"More honest," Liam corrected. "More true."

Isabel deflated.

"I'm sorry, Liam," she said. "You're right, and I shouldn't have warped the truth, no matter the reason."

Liam tipped his head, just slightly. He blinked.

"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate that."

"Um," Nano said quietly. Both of them turned to her as though they'd forgotten she was there. "I—I hate to interrupt, but . . . well, I know this isn't much of a rescue anymore, but Liam, we could—we could really use your help. Back home."

He looked her up and down.

"No," he said.

"But—"

"I said _no!"_ he snapped. Nano's heart skipped a beat, and she pressed herself against the wall. Liam subsided. "I appreciate you coming to rescue me, but as I'm not in need of rescuing, I think both you and—her—" he made a constrained gesture to Isabel— "ought to take the ferry back this evening."

"Liam, please," Nano said. "Lalna's gotten even worse—"

"I don't care," he interrupted.

"They're your sibling!"

"That's not a point in their favor," he said. "I don't know if you had noticed, but _family_ isn't a word with particularly pleasant connotations for me."

"What about _friends?"_

_"_ _Nilesy's_ friends," he said.

"Then for Nilesy's sake! Liam, please, we _need_ you. It's just me and Panda and Lomadia left, we can't do this on our own."

He hesitated, some flicker of concern crossing his face.

"You haven't . . . found Rythian yet?" he asked, suddenly young again.

"No," said Nano, seizing on his moment of uncertainty. "No, we haven't, and we need you to help us rescue him."

"I can't," he said immediately.

"Liam," said Nano, flabbergasted, "seriously? Look at what you've done _here!"_

"Yes, look at what I _have_ done," he said, clicking back into place. "I told you, this is my show, and I'm determined to run it."

"Are you intending to stay here, then?" Isabel asked. "In charge of . . . whatever this has become?"

"Yes," said Liam. "It's been working out marvelously so far."

"Someone will figure it out eventually, Liam," she said.

"Will they?" Liam asked, impertinent.

"Yes," said Isabel. "The regular staff will be missed. In their personal lives. Someone will come looking sooner or later."

"Fine," said Liam. "I'll lock them up, too."

"You'll run out of space, eventually," said Isabel.

"We can always make room."

"What about the other patients?" she asked. "Don't you think _they_ might like to go home?"

His brows pulled together. "Why on earth would they want a thing like that?" he asked. "I've made this place safe. I've made it the safest place in the world for us, and I can keep it that way."

"Not forever, darling," Isabel said gently. "At the very least, I think the people who make the decisions would have no objections to starving you out."

"And what do you think I ought to do instead?" he demanded. "Relinquish all these people back to the hell I pulled them out of? Relinquish _myself_ back to it? I'd rather die, thank you. I think we all would."

"Those aren't the only options," Isabel said gently.

"Oh, _aren't_ they," Liam said, suddenly venomous. "Since when, mother?"

"All along," said Isabel.

_"Never!"_ Liam snarled. There was a shattering crash of surf that rattled the windows. "There was _never_ a third option! Nobody was ever going to fix it, nobody was _ever_ going to change it, otherwise it would've been _fixed_ already! Don't you _dare_ try to tell me—"

"Liam Anthony Xephos, you will _not_ take that tone with me!" Isabel snapped, her voice like a whipcrack.

Liam flinched, ducking like he expected her to hit him. Isabel shut her eyes, bowing her head, sagging into herself.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to snap. I'm sorry, Liam."

He stood, still in his flinch, his breath coming short. He cast wide eyes around the room, twitching and hunted. His gaze landed on Isabel. His face twisted with rage.

_"You!"_ Nilesy roared. He flung up a hand. Isabel flew back like she'd been hit by a truck and slammed into the wall.

"Nilesy, _no!"_ Nano cried. She leapt across the room and grabbed him by the shoulders. He fought her off and staggered back, falling into a feral crouch, his eyes darting between her and Isabel, who had fallen to the floor.

"N—Nano?" he said. His voice shook.

"It's all right," she said. "It's okay, you're all right. Liam—Liam's been—"

"How long?" Nilesy interrupted, terror underpinning every word. "How long have I been gone?"

"I don't—I don't know, Nilesy," Nano said, as soothing as she could be. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"What—no, what is _she_ doing here?" he demanded, gesturing sharply to Isabel.

"She came with me," Nano said. "To come get you. We came to take you back home."

Nilesy looked at Isabel. He looked down at himself. In frantic disgust, he tore the doctor's coat off and threw it on the ground, backing away like he expected it to bite him.

"What's he done?" he said, panicked and breathless. "What has he _done?"_

"Nilesy, it's all _right,"_ Nano said. "Nobody's in any danger. You're okay. It's okay."

He stared at her. There were tears in his eyes.

Slowly, she approached, hands extended in a gesture of peace. He did not move to meet her, but he did not back away either. She stopped when she was in arm's reach of him.

"I know my promises don't mean anything," she said, "so I won't make any promises. But nobody's hurting you. You're in control here. If you want me to explain, I can."

He continued to stare. Tears slid down his cheeks. He glanced at Isabel and swallowed.

"Explain," he said hoarsely.

Nano took a deep breath, trying to settle the trembling in her. She kept her hands extended.

"After the trial was over, they kept you in solitary for a day and then sent you here," said Nano. "A few days before you got here, a little girl called Jennifer Flax was brought in. She's . . . the daughter of the alchemist we killed in Leeds. Liam—I think Liam saw her, and decided he'd had enough. He wrecked the guest house and tore down all the fences. He locked up all the staff. He . . . took over. Here. It's been—about six days, since the trial ended. I couldn't get in to see you, because I'm not family, but Dr. Peculier could. She brought me with her. We came to rescue you. We came to take you back home."

Nilesy stared at her.

"No he _didn't,"_ he said.

"I honestly think he did," said Nano.

"You expect me to believe that _coward_ fucking waltzed back in here and ripped it to shreds like nothing ever happened?"

"He seemed fairly well in control," Isabel said. Nilesy rounded on her with such violence that Nano was sure he was about to kill her.

"You keep your fucking mouth _shut!"_ he snapped, drawn tight as a bowstring.

"Nilesy—" Nano said, taken aback.

"Don't even start! Don't you even _begin_ to fucking defend her, you've got _no right!"_

"Liam had a right," Nano said stiffly. "Liam forgave her."

"Just because that pathetic, sniveling little _idiot—"_

"How _dare you,"_ Isabel cut in. "How _dare_ you speak about him that way?"

Nilesy pulled up short, like he'd been slapped in the face. Slowly, though, the rage came back.

"He _ran off,"_ Nilesy hissed. "Just like you, just like Xephos, he ran off and _abandoned me._ He dumped all of his shit at my fucking doorstep and never _once_ has he raised a single fucking finger to help me! Never _once!_ He left me with the fucking nightmares, and the flashbacks, and _everything else,_ and I just had to fucking deal with it! He left me with _Vee,_ for God's sake! All he _ever_ fucking does is sit in there and fucking criticize me and feel fucking sorry for himself! I have done every goddamn thing I was _ever_ asked, I did _everything_ for him, and he _hates me for it!_ So you go straight on to _hell,_ Dr. Peculier, and you fucking take Liam with you!"

She regarded him coolly. Her face was stone.

"He was a child," she said.

_"So was I!"_

"That doesn't make it his responsibility," Isabel snapped. _"I_ failed you. _Llewellyn_ failed you. Simon and William, your teachers and doctors, everyone who was supposed to be looking out for you failed you. _Both_ of you, _all_ of you. It was _never_ Liam's responsibility to protect you."

"Don't even—"

_"Just_ as it never should have been yours to protect him," she finished gently.

If her earlier rebuke had been a slap in the face, that statement was a gut-punch. It knocked all the air out of Nilesy, left him swaying and stunned. Slowly, he tottered to the nearest chair and lowered himself into it. A pair of tears slid down his cheeks. He subsided until his face was in his hands and his shoulders were hunched up to his ears.

Slowly, Nano went to his side and touched his shoulder.

"Nilesy," she said softly. "Let's go home."

He sniffled, and pushed his hands into his hair, and clenched his fists until his knuckles went white.

"How many patients," he said, his voice tremulous and thick with tears, "and how much room on the ferry?"


	33. Chapter 32

Without Nano around, it was getting harder and harder to leave Lalna asleep.

Every morning at eight a.m., they attempted to reboot, and then again at two in the afternoon, and then a third time at eight p.m. According to Lomadia, they did it once every night, too—Panda assumed at two in the morning. When Nano had been around, there had been no question about shutting them back off as soon as they started up. Panda had stopped objecting after one too many put-upon sighs and pained expressions.

Now that it was just him and Lomadia, though, it was hard to stay focused on the worst-case scenario. It had been barely eight hours since Nano had left, and Panda was getting antsy.

"What if we just left the room?" he asked, frowning into his cup of tea.

"Huh?" said Lomadia.

"When Lal was waking up," Panda said. "Y'know, if we gave them a bit of space, when they woke up. We could be like, right outside, but they'd have time to calm down. D'you think that'd be safe?"

"I don't think we should wake them up at all without Nano here," Lomadia said.

"Lom, seriously, it's not up to her," said Panda. "Or at least it shouldn't be. It _should_ be up to _Lal,_ but since they're, like, unconscious, they can't make that decision. But I'm pretty fucking sure they'd want to wake up."

Lomadia fluffed up her wings and shrugged.

"We should at least call her first," said Lomadia.

"Why?" he asked. "You know what she'll say. _It's too dangerous, it can wait,_ blah blah blah."

"Don't go _blah blah blah_ about Nano," she snapped.

"Sorry," he said. "Look, I get that you feel like she ought to have final say on this, because she's the one who went in their head in the first place _and_ she's the one who decided to shut them down, but it's _seriously_ not up to her."

"I'm not saying it's up to her, I just think she's right," said Lomadia. "It's too dangerous. We could get hurt. _They_ could get hurt. It could go really really bad and she'd come back and everybody would be dead."

"Oh, come off it," he said. "Not _everybody_ would be dead. At least one of us would probably survive. Even if it's just Lal."

"That's not much better."

He made a face and sipped his tea.

"Yeah, I s'pose," he said. "But—right, okay, remember back in Vegas? When we had Niles . . . well, you remember. And Nano kept on saying it was too dangerous to let him loose, but we _knew_ it was bad for him, but we listened to her anyway? And then listening to her about it made things about a million times worse? Maybe this is like that. Maybe she just honestly doesn't know what she's talking about."

"She does, though," said Lomadia. "And there was Trell, too. He said it all went really wrong."

"Yeah, the _two times_ we tried it," said Panda. "We could even ask him to come help! I bet that button turns Lal back on, too, we wouldn't even have to wait about all day for them to start up on their own."

Lomadia shook her head. "I think we should trust Nano."

"Of course you do, you're married to her."

"Yeah, and I married her because she's _trustworthy!"_

"I'm not saying she's got some sort of ulterior motive, I'm just saying that _maybe_ she's gone super fucking paranoid in the last month and it's skewing her judgement."

Lomadia chewed her lip. She turned her head around to look at Lalna.

"They got their lasers back, though," she said. "They were going to shoot me."

Wrinkling his nose, Panda looked away from her, and away from Lalna.

"Well," he said. "I mean, maybe. Maybe they were just scared. I wouldn't blame them, after Nano lied to their face about not fucking with their head."

Lomadia rounded on him, wings flaring out.

"Stop talking about her like she's the bad guy," she snapped.

"We're _all_ the bad guys, Lom," he retorted. "And I'm not going to fucking sugar-coat it just because it upsets you. It was her idea to shut them off, it was her idea to fuck about in their head, it was _her_ idea to lie to them."

"And we helped! You were scared, too, you wanted to do it, too."

"I said she was overreacting," Panda said. "Even at the time, I said she was overreacting."

"You're the one who turned them off in the first place!"

"And I only did it because I thought they were going to hurt somebody. You said it yourself, they might have shot you!"

"We're not waking them back up," Lomadia declared. "You're talking round in circles and we're not waking them back up without Nano, no matter _what_ you say."

_"God_ you're fucking stubborn," Panda said. "Lom, _listen_ to me. Nano is _never_ going to wake them back up. She's just not! She's too scared to ever actually do it. If we wait for her to give us the okay, Lalna's going to stay shut down forever."

"Well," Lomadia said, uncomfortable, "well, soon Nilesy'll be back. He could convince her."

"Nano's never listened to Nilesy a day in her life," said Panda. He did not mention the more obvious, glaring issue, which was that Nilesy might _not_ be back soon, or ever.

"She does," said Lomadia. "She has. When he does plans and stuff, she listens to those. She doesn't _like_ him, but she listens sometimes."

"If she won't listen to _you_ about it, she's not going to listen to Nilesy."

"But he's smart," she said. "If he says it's fine, he's probably right. Maybe not—maybe not if he says _fine,_ because that means something different, but. . . ."

She trailed off. Panda had another sip of tea. His chest was aching, his sinuses starting to prickle. Lomadia didn't continue, either, just sitting in her chair and fidgeting, downcast. The silence went on long enough that he felt he had to fill it.

"I thought I'd be over him by now," he said, and nearly punched himself in the leg. Of all the stupid things he could have said, that was by far the stupidest.

"Me, too," Lomadia said quietly.

Panda went still. He suddenly wished he could teleport, or at least turn invisible. It would be better yet if he could go back in time and make it so he never got into this stupid conversation in the first place.

"Um," he said.

She ruffled her wings again. "I know I shouldn't care anymore," she said. "Or at least I should just want to be friends with him, because I'm married now. And because he doesn't. . . ."

"He doesn't really want anything to do with you," Panda said, filling up with pain. "Yeah. Know the feeling."

"It wouldn't be so bad if he was happy," said Lomadia. "But he's not happy, and I feel like I've always got to help, but he doesn't want me to help, and every time I try he just gets angrier with me."

"God, I know _that_ feeling, too," said Panda, rolling his eye.

"And that's why I really, really wanted to go help rescue him," Lomadia went on. "And why I got so upset when Nano said I couldn't. Because I want him to be okay and I want to help but I also want him to know that I want that stuff and he won't believe me if I just tell him."

"At least with you he might _eventually_ believe it," Panda said. "You _tried_ to help him, last year. I'm pretty sure he hates me. He'll probably always hate me and I deserve it."

"Yeah," said Lomadia.

Panda looked up sharply, stung.

_"Yeah?"_ he said. "What d'you mean, _yeah?"_

She shrugged. "I mean he holds grudges forever. And all sorts of bad stuff happened to him and we didn't help, so he probably _should_ hate us. I used to rip up people who did stuff like Zylus did, when they were doing it to strangers. I should've done it to him, but I didn't because I liked him too much. Because I kept letting him talk at me until it didn't seem so bad anymore. At least you actually hurt him."

"Don't—just, don't, Lom," Panda said, shrinking into himself. "Just don't."

There was another long moment of quiet. Gently, a warm, soft wing folded around Panda's shoulders.

"I don't think there was a right answer," she said. "Nano says sometimes that's how it is. There's no right answer. I think by the time anybody realized things were really bad, all the right answers were gone."

Panda sniffed and swallowed, fighting back tears.

"Doesn't mean there weren't _better_ answers," he said thickly. "Now Zy's dead and Nilesy hates me and—fuck, even _Rythian's_ gone."

"Okay, but Rythian wasn't your fault, even a little bit," said Lomadia.

"But he's _gone,_ everyone's _gone,_ everyone fucking hates me and I deserve it. _I_ hate me!"

"I don't hate you," said Lomadia. "I'm still here, and Nano's still here, and Lalna's sort of still here. I'm pretty sure Zoey likes you, too."

He shook his head, scrubbing at his face with one hand.

"It's just—why them? Why Niles, and Rythian, and Lal, why not _me?_ Nobody would've missed me—"

Lomadia swatted him in the head with her wing.

"You're being thick," she said. "Of course we'd miss you. Stop acting like you're the only person who's hurting, because you're not."

He hunched his shoulders, biting his tongue. Lomadia reached over and touched his hand.

"But it's okay to be hurting," she said. "It hurts a lot, and it's bad, and it's scary, but you're not all alone. I'm still here and Nano's still here and soon Nilesy'll be back and we'll wake Lal back up and we'll fix this. We'll fix the whole big mess."

"Some things can't _be_ fixed, Lom," he said miserably.

"Yeah," she said. "But this can."

_"How?"_ he asked, turning a teary-eyed gaze to her.

She shrugged, making an apologetic face.

"I dunno," she said. "It's way bigger than I've got the brains for."

"Then how are you so sure?"

"Well," she said, "because if I'm not, then there's no point. There's no point in even trying. If it's going to be broken forever, why bother trying to fix it? So I've got to believe it'll get fixed, even if I don't know how."

He watched her for a moment.

"Is that . . . how you've been going on all this time?" he asked. "Just . . . taking it on faith that the rest of us know what we're doing?"

"No," she said, "I know none of you know what you're doing. I've just got faith that you'll figure it out."

"Disregarding all evidence to the contrary?" he drawled.

"Well," Lomadia said again. "Yeah."

He nearly smiled. He scooted over and gave her a one-armed hug.

"Thanks," he said.

* * *

 

Panda spent most of the afternoon cleaning the flat while Lomadia slept. There wasn't much else he _could_ do, and it at least kept his hands busy. Nano and Lomadia were by no means messy people, but he still found things to do—mopping the kitchen, moving the couch and cleaning behind and under it, scrubbing the floor molding, dusting the light fixtures, and so on and so forth. He took a load of dirty clothes down to the laundry room and sat on the washing machine for an hour, reading one of Nano's old sci-fi books. He switched the clothes over to the dryer and kept reading for another hour and a half (by which time he was nearly done with the book), then lugged the whole load back up to the flat and folded everything as best he could.

Lalna tried their eight o'clock reboot and Panda resignedly shut them down again. The sun went down and he made himself dinner, then washed all the dishes by hand because he had nothing better to do. By his reckoning, Nano would be leaving Fair Isle soon, if she hadn't already, which meant that it was only ten hours before she'd (hopefully) call and tell them whether or not Nilesy was still alive. It seemed an eternity.

As he ruminated on this, his phone let out a pair of short buzzes. Frowning, Panda set aside the mug he was drying off and spent a couple of minutes looking for his phone. He found it between the cushions of the couch. There was a voicemail message, and he flopped down on the couch to listen to it.

"You have— _one—_ unheard message," he muttered, mocking the answering machine's nasal voice and choppy cadence. _"First—_ unheard message."

There was a moment of silence, a wheedling distortion, and a hiss of static like an indrawn breath.

_"Hello."_

Panda's heart stopped. He clapped a hand over his mouth, stifling a gasp. His eye filled with tears.

It was _Zylus._

_"I can only imagine what thish shoundsh like,_ _"_ he said. _"_ _Sherioushly? I killed you!_ _And . . . yesh. I know. It'sh not every day you're shtupid enough to get killed. And I_ _wash_ _shtupid. I wash shelf-intereshted. I wash under duressh, but it doeshn't really matter. What_ _doesh_ _really matter ish . . . I'm alive. Clearly. It wash another one of Xephosh'sh dronesh. Tinker a little, and I get . . . myshelf. And a death warrant. It wash incredibly shtupid. But what could I do? I can shurvive with no Powersh. You could kill me in half a shecond."_

Panda's ears were ringing. He couldn't breathe. He was going to throw up, or scream, or faint.

_"I had to take shome time,"_ Zylus went on. _"It'sh not ideal, I know, but I've had a lot to do._ _I wanted to shay I'm shorry._ _I—I want to shee you. It shoundsh shtupid, it'sh not what'sh besht, but. . . . I know Lalna'sh not all right. I know where Lalnable ish. I can do sho much more with you than I ever could alone. I jusht want to shee you. I jusht want to shee_ _shomebody_ _._ _"_

He sighed. Panda was choking back sobs, desperate to hear the rest.

_"The Wonder,_ _ten_ _fifteen_ _,"_ Zylus said. _"_ _Watch for me."_

The message ended.

Panda sat there, trembling and crying, for uncounted minutes. He played the message again. And again. And again. Just to hear his voice. Staticky, at times distorted by a bad connection, halting and awkward and _alive._

He tried to call the number back, but it rang endlessly without picking up, even to an answering machine. Knowing Zylus, it was probably a burner phone, and he'd gotten rid of it immediately after calling. Panda played the message again.

Alive.

All the pieces started coming together—Zylus's determination not to return home running up against Panda's insistence that he must, the guilt over what he'd done to Nilesy, the desire to vanish from all their lives. The body Nano had seen lying in the hospital bed must have been the fake, a drone decorated to look like Zylus, but dead. If he'd been working with YogLabs—and he had been working with YogLabs for nearly a year—it would've been easy to get somebody to make it for him. He would've had time, and Zylus always had a plan for _everything._ It would even explain Nano's missing second drone.

Maybe he was still working for YogLabs now, secret missions well hidden from the public eye. It would explain how he knew where Lalnable was; he might have been assigned to that specific case. Even without his Powers, he was still a genius, still _useful._ Somebody could have bribed the hospital. Strife had proven himself willing and able to fake people's deaths if it benefitted him. The morticians might not have been morticians at all. The entire funeral had been closed-casket.

They'd buried a decoy.

Zylus was _alive._

Panda checked the time—just past eight forty-five. He had an hour and a half to find out what and where _The Wonder_ was and get there. There was no telling how long Zylus would hang about, although it probably wouldn't be very long. Knowing him, he'd show up half an hour early to his own meeting and be utterly convinced that Panda wasn't going to show by ten sixteen.

It took him almost fifteen minutes to find the place, and with every passing second he grew more frantic, more frustrated. Finally, he hit upon a tiny local pub on the outskirts of Birmingham, listed under _Wonder, The._ By car it would take an hour and a half to get there.

He leapt to his feet and darted to Lomadia's door, knocking frantically until she answered. She looked down at him and frowned, her wings fluffing up.

"What's—" she began, but he cut her off.

"I think Zylus might be alive and he's called me asking to meet and it's an hour and a half to get there so I've got to go _right now_ and I don't want to leave you alone but I also don't want us to leave _Lal_ alone because—"

Lomadia grabbed him by the shoulders. He stilled, breathless and shaking.

"Start over and talk at normal-people speed," she said.

Panda took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his phone in his fist.

"I got a message," he said, speaking slowly and enunciating clearly. "From Zy. I'll—let me just play it for you."

Fumbling, with shaking fingers, he got the message pulled up again and put it on speaker. Lomadia's hands got tighter and tighter on his arms, her eyes fixed on the phone, until he was sure she was going to crush his bones in her grip. Her nose was running by the end. She looked up at Panda.

"We've got to go," she said, voice shaking.

"I dunno about _we,_ Lom, it could be a trap—"

She shook him.

_"We've got to go,"_ she repeated. "You know where it is? The place? You found it?"

"I did," he said. "I—yeah, it's a pub, if we take the car we can get there in an hour and a half or so—"

She set him aside and hurried out into the main room, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

"I'm calling Nano," she said. "I'm telling her what's going on and then we're going. You can call Zoey or somebody to come watch Lal."

"On it," he said.

Zoey's phone rang out to voicemail. Every second of it was excruciating. Panda forced himself to speak slowly and clearly, because if she couldn't understand him then there was no point in leaving a message at all.

"Hi, Zoey, it's me," he said, the instant the tone had played. "Look, something's come up and Lom and I have got to go somewhere right away, like, _right_ now, and we can't stay with Lal. If you could come look after them, that'd be really great, and probably nothing'll happen, we should be back before they try to boot up again, you probably won't have to do anything, but—if something goes wrong, then somebody should be here. Please. I—we'll owe you big time. And something always goes wrong, so, like, please. Um."

He hesitated. Lomadia sounded like she was leaving a message for Nano, too.

"It's a place called _The Wonder,"_ he said. "It's a pub, outside Birmingham. We're supposed to be there at ten fifteen, so . . . so if you don't hear from me by midnight, um . . . send help. Or something. I'm really sorry about this, and thank you, and now I'm going to call Fiona just in case she answers. Sorry. Bye."

He repeated the whole rigmarole with Fiona when he got her voicemail, too. Lomadia was standing by the door, rocking from side to side, preening the ends of her wings.

"They didn't answer," Panda said. "Look, Lom, are you _sure_ one of us shouldn't stay here?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm going, and you're going, because nobody's supposed to be alone, and because if it's a trap then we really _really_ both need to go, and if it's Zylus then . . . then I want to see him, too. And we'll be back before Lalna tries to wake up again."

"Right," said Panda. He took a deep breath. "Right. I'll drive. D'you have the keys?"

She snagged them off of the counter and tossed them to him, then opened the door and stepped outside. Panda followed. He hesitated on the threshold, looking back.

Lalna lay on the floor, unmoving, still locked in that instant of violence. Panda sighed. He shut the door and locked it behind him.

"Okay," he said. "Let's go."


	34. Chapter 33

The ferry ride back was cramped, and tense, and constituted yet another sleepless night for Nano. Nilesy elected to stay out on the deck, despite the fact that it was pitch black and freezing outside. Nano kept an eye on him, regularly checking to see if he was still there. She'd tried talking to Martyn for a little while, but he'd seemed stressed and overstimulated, so she decided it was best to leave him alone. Jen had latched onto Dr. Peculier and promptly fallen asleep on her, and most of the other patients seemed content to chat amongst themselves or simply sleep. Eventually, when the crush and press and heat of forty some-odd people became too much, Nano went out and joined Nilesy on the deck.

He was sitting on the port side, one hand wrapped loosely around the railing while his feet dangled over the black water. Orange light spilled off the deck of the ferry, cast from old bulbs overhead. The sky was still clouded over, the moon a faint smudge behind thick gray curtains. Nano sat down a few feet away, putting her back to the wheelhouse so she'd get less freezing spray on her.

"Hi," she said.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

"Not a wink," she said. "It's a bit crowded in there."

"A bit," said Nilesy.

For a time, there was only the slosh of the sea, the purr of the engines.

"Every time I get this close," Nilesy said softly, "I want to go back. Maybe not _want,_ exactly, it's . . . it's like magnetism, or gravity. Something."

Nano thought very carefully about her words before she said them.

"If you want to go," she said, "you can."

"I can't," he said. "There's work to be done."

"Well," she said. "Yes. But there'll always be work to be done. It doesn't mean you've got to be the one to do it."

He shook his head. She couldn't tell if the water on his face was from the sea or not.

"I'm not going to run away from this," he said. He glanced at her, and the corner of his mouth curled up. "Besides, the worst's already happened. It's all uphill from here."

She dropped her gaze, then turned it out towards the sea. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and blinked back tears.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. I'm sorry I—"

"What the fuck are you on about?" Nilesy asked, exasperated.

"I—well, I—" Nano stammered. She couldn't find anything to say that wasn't going to make things worse. Her eyes were stinging.

Nilesy pulled up his feet and scooted back to sit against the wheelhouse with her.

"I didn't think you were _ever_ coming," he said. "I thought . . . you would've preferred to forget about me."

"Nilesy," she said softly, aching.

"But, I get it," he said. "There's work to be done."

"That is _not why,"_ Nano said. "That's _not_ why I came to get you."

"Isn't it?" he asked. He didn't sound upset, just . . . tired. "You need my help to get Rythian back, and that's all fine. Apparently there's something wrong with Lal, too, and though there's not much I can personally do about that, I'm happy to help."

"Nilesy, I came to get you because—because you needed to be gotten!" she said. "Lom and Panda wanted to come too, _especially_ Lom, we just couldn't work out a way for them to get here."

"You haven't got to make excuses, Nano," he said. "I understand. It's all right."

"You _don't_ understand!" she cried. "You're so _stuck_ on the idea that none of us care about you that you'll twist absolutely everything to fit it! I didn't come here because we needed you, I came here because _you needed us."_

"So where were you last time I needed you?" he asked.

She clenched her jaw, biting back excuses, reasons, retorts. She swallowed them all, though they were bitter.

"Being . . . willfully ignorant," she said. "Which is why, if you _want_ to go—" she gestured to the dark and endless sea— "I won't stop you. I wouldn't . . . blame you."

He hesitated before he responded.

"It's worse, in salt water," he said, carefully, as though he was speaking some sort of secret code, awaiting the proper response. "Takes longer. Hurts more. But afterwards—I should've frozen to death, the first time. Should've come out covered in sores. But I didn't. I belong down there."

Nano looked up at him, tears in her eyes. He was watching her, drawn into himself like he expected some sort of blow.

"Okay," she said.

_"Okay?"_ he parroted. "That's all?"

She shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know what else to say," she said. "Nilesy, if you want to stay, then stay. If you want to go, then go. Sometimes you've just got to go home. Wherever that is."

Nilesy looked out at the sea. The wind tousled his hair. The orange lights turned his eyes black.

"It wasn't a place," he said. "It was Liam. _I_ was Liam."

"You can go back," she said.

His jaw tightened. He shook his head.

"Liam's dead," he said.

"What—Nilesy, when you say _Liam's dead,_ what do you mean?" said Nano. "Because I feel like you don't mean what I think you do."

"I mean he's dead," said Nilesy. "Xephos and Dr. Peculier, they dreamed up a lovely little boy. The perfect son, the perfect legacy, the perfect little scientist. He's dead. The _dream_ is dead. It was never real, but try telling _them_ that. Liam's dead. Liam's dead, because. . . ."

She waited. He swallowed. He watched the sea.

"Because once you're dead, you can't be frightened, or in pain," he murmured. "Or lonely. Or . . . a disappointment. So Liam's dead, and I let him stay that way. I make sure he _gets_ to stay that way."

"Are you sure that's for the best?" she asked softly.

"Of course it is," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Have you _met_ Liam?"

Nano managed a smile.

"Yes," she said. "And if you're not busy, I think I might like to meet you."

He took a slow, deep breath, his chin lifting incrementally, his shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly. He looked her in the eyes for the first time in months.

Carefully, he held out a hand to her. Carefully, Nano shook it.

"Nilesy," he said. "Nilesy MacKay."

"Nano Sounds," she said.

One corner of his mouth turned up, and then the other, and the orange light twinkled in his eye.

"Villain by trade," he said, "handsome devil by nature."

She leaned her chin on her fist and pretended she wasn't crying. She was still holding his hand.

"Please," she said. "Go on."

* * *

 

Although Nano stayed up most of the night talking with Nilesy, she did drift off for a few hours just before dawn. The ferry arrived back in Aberdeen much too soon after that, and she was forced to abandon rest in favor of helping Isabel get everyone off the ferry and shuttled away as inconspicuously as possible. It took a couple of hours, but eventually they managed to get all of the ex-patients settled in a few nearby motels.

Jen was the hardest.

"I want to say goodbye to Mr. Liam," she said, hanging on Isabel's hand, her weeping eyes fixed on Nilesy. "He'll worry. I don't want to go without him!"

"I'm sure he knows," Isabel assured her. "And if he doesn't, I'll be sure to tell him."

Jen shook her head fiercely. "I'm not going! I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!"

"Nilesy," Nano said, pained. "Can't you—do something?"

Nilesy tossed a put-upon look at her.

_"Please?"_ she said.

Nilesy rolled his eyes, and sighed, and walked up to Jen, ignoring Isabel completely. Jen shrank away, and Nilesy knelt in front of her.

"Jen?" he said.

"You're not Mr. Liam," Jen said, her voice gone quiet.

"No, I'm not," said Nilesy. "My name's Nilesy. I'm Liam's friend. Did he tell you about me?"

"Sort of," Jen mumbled.

"Liam . . . gets very frightened, sometimes," Nilesy said. "And when he gets too frightened, he goes to hide somewhere safe, and asks me to come out and handle things until it's safe again."

"But it's safe now," Jen said. "Isn't it? I want to talk to him."

"Sometimes it's hard for Liam to tell what's safe and what isn't," said Nilesy. "And sometimes he gets very, very tired, and he doesn't want to come back out at all. And that's all right, he's allowed to do that. Sometimes I can't convince him to come back out, because he's much too tired."

Jen swallowed, and sniffled, and leaned an inch out from behind Isabel's leg.

"Is he sleeping now?"

"He's . . . resting," Nilesy said. "He can hear you, but he's too tired to come out and talk. You can say goodbye to him, if you want. I'm sure he'd want to know you were safe."

Jen fidgeted for a moment, then asked, "Can I give you a hug? And then next time you see him, you can give it to him?"

Nilesy took a slow breath and sighed.

"Yes," he said, "I think I could do that."

With a decisive nod and a bit more fidgeting, Jen pried herself off of Isabel and wrapped her arms around Nilesy's neck. He patted her back, and she stepped away.

"Okay," she said to Isabel. "We can go now."

"All right," said Isabel. She led Jen away, along with a group of about ten others. Nilesy got back to his feet and dusted himself off.

"Thank you," Nano said to him.

"Wasn't entirely for your benefit," Nilesy said. "But you're welcome."

* * *

 

When everyone had been squared away, generally in groups of two or three, Nano, Isabel, and Nilesy lingered outside the back of the last motel. There was an air of goodbyes. Nilesy hadn't looked at Isabel the entire time, and was still pretending she wasn't there, his hands in his pockets, his gaze averted.

"It'll take some time to find proper accommodations for them," Isabel said to Nano. "Most of what I've got now is extremely temporary, but I should be able to do _something._ Anyone under the age of eighteen I can hang onto indefinitely, or at least until they turn eighteen, but hopefully I'll be able to work something out for them before then."

"You seem to have identification locked down," said Nano. "Speaking of which—"

She got out the fake ID and offered it to Isabel, who waved her off.

"Keep it," she said. "You might need it someday, you never know." Her eyes drifted to Nilesy, and she added, "I could get one for you, too, if you'd like."

He considered her for a long moment, his jaw tight, his breath coming slow and deliberate.

"I appreciate your assistance," he said, taut. "But no, thank you."

"All right," said Isabel. "If there's anything else I can do . . . well. Do let me know."

"We will," Nano promised. She was already planning to call Isabel up as soon as Nilesy wasn't listening and take her up on the initial offer. "And thank you. Again. For . . . everything."

Isabel smiled and shook Nano's hand.

"Thank _you,"_ she said. "For letting me see my son again. Both of you. Thank you."

They parted shortly after, Isabel back into the motel, Nano and Nilesy bound for the airport. The two of them walked in companionable silence for a time, the morning bustle of the city hurrying on around them.

"I'm not going to be able to get on the plane," Nilesy said at last. "Haven't got any ID or anything."

"Oh," said Nano. "Right. That's . . . a bit of an issue."

"A _bit,"_ said Nilesy, making a face.

Nano sighed. "I s'pose we could just rent a car. It'll take hours, but it's doable. I'll have to call Lom and let her know—actually, I should call her anyway, I haven't had reception since I left."

"I'll keep my eyes open for a rental place," said Nilesy. "Or maybe coffee."

"Coffee would be _very good,"_ said Nano, fishing her phone out of her bag. The battery was nearly dead, and she cursed herself for not turning it off during the nearly twenty-four hour journey. She called Lomadia, plugging her other ear against the roar of traffic. The call rang out to voicemail and Nano tried to swallow down her panic.

"Hey, sweetheart, it's me," she said. "I've just got off the ferry. Things have gone a bit complicated, but—we're all right. Both of us. We're on our way home. It'll be—a while. Six or seven hours, probably, so you'll probably be asleep when we get there. Or you might be up by then, I dunno. Um. Please call me back when you can, or just . . . send a text, or something. I love you, and I'll see you soon. Okay. Um. Bye."

"Voicemail?" Nilesy asked, as Nano hung up.

"Yeah," said Nano. "I'm—if she doesn't call me back in a few minutes, I'll try Panda's. She's probably just . . . not with her phone. Right now. Or something. She could be out!"

"If you want to just get on a plane, I can find my own way back," Nilesy said. "I've done it before."

"One, thanks, and two, no," said Nano. "I didn't come all this way just to . . . abandon you. I just got you out of trouble, I'm not going to take off and let you get back in it."

"What, think I can't take care of myself?" he asked, sarcastic.

"I think—" she began, and her phone buzzed. There was a message from Lomadia.

_Sorry, Panda's sleeping, can't talk right now. Everything's still okay here._

Relief flooded her. She typed out a quick reply.

_Okay, good. My phone's about to die so I might not be able to call again before we get back._

Lomadia's reply came back almost immediately.

_That's okay, we'll be here._

_Okay. I love you, sweetheart. I'll see you soon._

_Love you too! <3_

Nano let out a breath and rubbed some of the tension out of her forehead.

"It's fine," she said. "Panda was just sleeping and she didn't want to wake him."

"Why's she staying with Panda?" Nilesy asked, frowning.

"He's been staying with us," said Nano. "Lalna too. I'll tell you all about it on the car ride. I've got one more phone call to make before my battery dies, if you don't mind."

"I s'pose it's forgivable," said Nilesy, gesturing grandly.

Once again, Nano plugged one ear and waited.

_"Yeah?"_ Trell answered. He sounded like he'd woken up five seconds ago.

"Hey, it's me," she said. "Look, um, there's been some . . . complications. I might not have thought this through super thoroughly, and long story short, he can't go on a plane, so we're having to rent a car and drive. Which is going to take . . . like, eight hours. At least."

_"Oh joy,"_ Trell drawled, and yawned. _"In that case, I'm going back to bed. I'll look for you around, what, five o'clock?"_

"Probably closer to six or seven," Nano said. She'd have to drive slowly and take a lot of breaks, especially considering the amount of caffeine she was going to have to imbibe to keep from falling asleep at the wheel.

_"Right,"_ said Trell. _"Try not to get murdered on the way."_

"If I haven't yet, I'm not going to be now," she said, then added, "er, hopefully. Not by anyone in the car, anyway."

"Thanks," Nilesy said dryly.

_"You inspire unprecedented levels of confidence,"_ Trell said. _"Who do I call if you don't turn up?"_

"My wife," said Nano. "I'll text you her number. She might be asleep, depending on the time, but just keep trying."

_"Thanks,"_ said Trell. _"Er, Nano, listen."_

"Oh God, what now?" she sighed, smelling incipient trouble.

_"You—look, you heard about the thing that happened at Strife Solutions, right?"_ he asked, in that same tone of voice he'd used when he'd been avoiding telling her that she'd been shot dead.

"Yes?" she guessed. "There was a chemical spill or something. I'm guessing that's not what _really_ happened."

_"Somebody stuffed the sprinkler system full of mutagens and the B714 serum and set it off,"_ said Trell.

Nano's stomach dropped. "Oh," she said.

_"I got a look at that_ _enhanced mutagenesis_ _they mentioned in the lab notebooks,"_ he went on. _"By_ _enhanced_ _they mean_ _nearly instantaneous._ _It's . . . rather gruesome."_

"Jesus Christ," said Nano. "I don't know whether to feel vindicated that Five's going after Strife or horrified that everybody in the building would've gotten hit."

_"What makes you so sure it's Five?"_ Trell asked.

"Because I know she's had at least some access to that serum," said Nano. "She must've been involved in at least one of the thefts. Plus, she's got better reason than just about anyone to hate Strife Solutions."

_"That's about how I had it figured, too_ _,"_ said Trell. _"The reason I mention it, right, is because I_ _'ve been thinking about it, and I_ _think whoever did it—presumably Five—must've found a way to synthesize more of the stuff. That building is_ _enormous_ _and it was an awful lot of water._ _And, in that vein, I_ _get the feeling that_ _what they did to Solutions Tower was just a warm-up._ _So, I'd be careful, right, with where I went, if I were you. Because it's not impossible that YogLabs or somewhere could be next._ _"_

She sighed. "That's a very good point. Thanks for the warning.I s'pose I'll see you this evening, then. I might not be able to call before I get there, my phone's almost dead."

_"Noted. I'll keep an ear out."_

"Thanks, Trell. Bye."

_"Bye."_

"So what was all that about?" Nilesy asked, as Nano hung up. She explained the situation to him briefly, and did not miss the hint of disappointment in his expression when she mentioned that no one at Strife Solutions had been hurt.

"And—s'pose I should've mentioned this sooner, but we were sort of planning for you to stay with Trell, for a bit," she said. "Just until we can find somewhere safer."

"Ah," said Nilesy. "Right. Of course."

"Sorry," said Nano. "I would've told you sooner, but—"

He waved her off. "There's been a lot going on," he said.

"Yeah," she said.

It took another twenty minutes of walking, but they did manage to find a rental car place not too far from the docks. Unfortunately, navigating to it used up the last of Nano's phone battery, and, through some increasingly frantic searching, she discovered that she'd forgotten to pack the charger, as well. At that point it got tempting to bang her head against the wall, but she managed to keep her cool long enough to get both her and Nilesy into the car and on the road, although she had to ask him to drive. Between the sleep deprivation, the worry, and the frustration, she would probably have crashed the car within five minutes.

"We could stop off somewhere and get one of those car chargers," Nilesy mentioned, as they got on the motorway heading southward.

"I dunno," said Nano. "I feel like the fewer public appearances you make, the better."

"We'll be stopping off a few times anyway," he said. "And I haven't necessarily got to go in with you every time."

"That's true," she sighed. She leaned her head against the window, watching the rainy landscape roll by. "Meanwhile, I should probably tell you what's been going on since you've been gone."

"It'd be appreciated," he said. "We've got loads of time, though, if you'd prefer to take a nap or something."

"Yeah, I probably should," she said. "So you don't have to drive the whole way."

He shrugged. "If I've got to, I can. It won't be _pleasant,_ but it'll be a hell of a lot more pleasant than running off the road and winding up wrapped round a tree."

"Fair," she said. "I'll give it a go, anyway."

"We can find coffee somewhere, too," he offered.

"Mm, coffee," she mumbled. She let her eyes drift closed. She really was incredibly, _immensely_ tired.

When she opened her eyes again, the car was stopped, pulled up at a petrol station. She sat up, rubbing her face, wiping a bit of drool off her chin. Nilesy wasn't in the car. A jolt of panic shot through her, and she fumbled to get her seatbelt off. Someone tapped on the window and her head snapped up.

Nilesy waved at her. He was standing by the petrol pump, and from the gurgling sound, was filling the tank up. Nano subsided back in her seat, letting out a breath. A minute later, Nilesy got back in the car.

"I'm afraid I nicked your card," he said, handing her wallet back to her.

"It's fine," she said. "D'you mind if I pop inside and grab some caffeine?"

"Go for it," he said. "So long as you don't mind driving. And get me a coffee too. And some sort of hat, that might help, going forward."

"Will do," said Nano. She got out of the car and stretched, then headed into the convenience store.

She managed to find hot coffee and a blue baseball cap, plus a pair of sunglasses. She also got some snacks for the remainder of the car ride. When she came back out, Nilesy had parked the car up near the building and had moved into the passenger's seat. She got in and deposited the coffees in the front cup holders, then handed the baseball cap and sunglasses to him.

"Here," she said. "Hopefully that'll make you less conspicuous."

"Oh, yes, because walking about like I just stepped out of a _Bourne_ film won't attract any attention whatsoever," Nilesy drawled.

"All right, you haven't _got_ to wear it," Nano said, bristling.

He gave her a look she had only ever seen him use on Lalna, and very deliberately pulled the hat on backwards and flicked the sunglasses onto his face. He leaned his seat back and kicked his feet up onto the dashboard.

"I make it look good," he said.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," she said, rolling her eyes. She started the car and began navigating out of the car park.

"You are _now,"_ said Nilesy, grinning. "Give it a couple hours, you'll be chucking me out the window."

"Try me," said Nano.

* * *

 

"So," Nilesy said, "you've been keeping them shut down."

"Yeah," Nano said, uncomfortable. She risked a glance at him. He was frowning out the window, as he had been for the past half hour while she drove and explained.

"Because you're concerned someone'll get killed when they wake up," he said.

"Yes."

"And they've got their lasers back now."

"Just the one, but yes."

His frown deepened.

"Well then, they probably weren't trying to kill anyone."

"How d'you figure?" she asked, even as her heart leapt.

"Three possibilities," he said. "One, Trell's making shit up whole-cloth, and there were no problems when they woke up at all. I've no idea why he would, and if he has, he's done his homework on how Lal acts in hazard mode. The _second_ possibility is that they were just trying to get away. Chuck someone through a wall and you've got a lovely exit hole, depending on which wall you pick. Doesn't even necessarily kill anyone."

"What's the third?"

"They haven't got enough power left to fire the MALaR and survive," he said flatly.

"Ah," said Nano, with a sinking feeling. "That . . . could very well be it. But you don't think it's any sort of, like, malware? We know Five hacked them, they could very well be compromised."

"I know exactly nothing about computers," Nilesy said. "I've got no way of knowing what that would even look like. But based on what I know of Lalna, I don't think it's _necessary_ for them to have been hacked to have got to where we are."

"Fair," Nano sighed. "I mean, I _was_ thorough. I was as thorough as I knew how to be and I didn't find anything that looked wrong. That doesn't mean there was nothing wrong, but. . . ."

"How much of your memories d'you think Five's got, then?" Nilesy said.

Nano nearly ran off the road.

"How much of my _what?"_

"Jesus Christ, pull over!" he cried, bracing himself on the dashboard and the door.

Nano nearly objected, but instead pulled off the road, turned off the car, and rounded her full attention on him.

"What do you _mean,_ how much of my memories?" she demanded.

"She didn't learn to hack Lalna overnight," said Nilesy. "She's what, six months old? A year? And she can hack a sentient supercomputer like it's nothing, knew where your old lab was, worked out how best to get at me _and_ Rythian _and_ Lalna, broke into YogLabs—she's got to have had _some_ sort of retention. Most six-month-olds can't even _talk,_ for fuck's sake."

"And you think she's got my _memories?"_

"What the fuck _else_ would she have?" he retorted.

Nano opened her mouth. She closed it again.

"That's not good," she said.

"No," said Nilesy. "It's not."


	35. Chapter 34

It was around seven o'clock when the knock at Trell's door came. He got up, stretched, and went to peer through the peephole, just in case. Granamyr, apparently experiencing a similar fit of distrust, went and hid under the bed.

Nano was standing on the doorstep, and next to her, Nilesy. Both of them looked nervous and exhausted. Trell unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi, Trell," Nano said. "You've—you've met Nilesy, right?"

"Briefly," said Trell. "You should come in before somebody spots you."

"Right," said Nano. Trell stood aside, and the two of them entered. He shut the door behind them. "So what's the plan?"

"Well," said Nano. "I'd sort of had it in my head that I'd drop Nilesy off here and then head back to my place, get Lom and Panda up to speed, and then we could all meet up in the morning and talk about what's next."

"So you're just going to stick me with a random stranger?" Nilesy asked, laconic. "Brilliant plan. Loving it so far."

"Could be worse," Trell said snidely. "She could've stuck you with a serial killer."

Nilesy turned to him and looked him up and down. "There's plenty more things I could stick you with, if you fancy," he said.

"Buyer's choice?" Trell drawled.

"Depends," said Nilesy. "How much've you got?"

"More than I know what to do with."

"I could give you a few ideas."

"Such as?"

"Oh, the usual. Private jets. Fast cars. Ever considered getting a timeshare?"

Trell stared at him. The grin that spread across Nilesy's face was sterling, crooked and infectious.

"Eh?" he said. _"Eh?"_

"I can't believe I'm going to be stuck in a flat with you," Trell said.

Nilesy burst out laughing. It was not an unpleasant sound, but from the shocked look on Nano's face, it might have been an uncommon one.

"That's the highest compliment I could ever receive," Nilesy said, wiping at his eyes.

_"Well,"_ said Nano. "You two seem to be getting on famously. I've got to get back and make sure Lom and Panda haven't . . . burned down the flat, or something. And charge my phone. I'll let you know if anything disastrous has happened."

"D'you think that's likely?" Nilesy asked, sobering.

"I don't know," Nano sighed. "I s'pose we'll see. Take care, and if anything happens—"

"If anybody murders me in my sleep, I'll be sure to call you first," Nilesy said. "Go home, Nano. I'm all right."

"All right," Nano said. She hesitated, then hugged him. "But seriously, take care of yourself. Okay?"

"Okay," he said, patting her on the back. "Tell Lom and Panda I said _hi."_

"I will," said Nano. She let go of him and turned to Trell. "And thank you for this. I know it's a lot, but . . . you were the safest place I could think of."

Trell waved her off. "Yes, yes, I'm a miracle, jog on."

She smiled at him. "Thanks, Trell," she said.

He let her out, shut and locked the door behind her. He could feel the awkwardness like a physical pressure, seeping in towards him from every corner of the room.

"So!" he said, before it could get too far. "Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Sorry it's a mess. I've got Netflix and Hulu, remote's on the floor, or you can just knock off, if you like. I figured you could have the bed and I'll sleep in the chair, won't be the first time. Bathroom's on the other side of the kitchen, can't miss it. If Granamyr gives you any grief, you can just shove him about."

"Granamyr?" said Nilesy.

"My cat," said Trell.

Nilesy gasped. "You've got a _cat?"_ he cried, lighting up like Christmas.

"I think he's under the bed at the moment," said Trell.

Nilesy took two steps towards the bed and then stopped, turning back to Trell sheepishly.

"Can I—sorry, is it all right if I—"

"He might take a chunk out of you, but good luck," said Trell, gesturing to the bed. Nilesy continued on, and Trell went back to making dinner for himself. He wondered if he shouldn't double up on the portions for Nilesy, but then decided that that might be coming on a bit strong. He really only ever cooked for Fox, and even then, it was rare.

He'd have to tell Fox, at some point. _That_ was going to be a fun conversation.

Not five minutes later, Nilesy wandered into the kitchen with Granamyr purring like an outboard motor in his arms. Trell gawped.

"Are you like, the cat-whisperer or something?" he demanded.

"Eh, yeah, apparently," said Nilesy, scratching Granamyr under the chin. "He's just a big old softie, though."

"Well," said Trell. "I suppose if Granamyr likes you, you can't be _too_ bad."

"Oh, believe me," Nilesy said, "I can."

"If you kill me in my sleep, I'm kicking you out," Trell warned.

"If I killed you, you'd be dead," Nilesy said, while Granamyr melted against his chest. "Also it wouldn't be me doing the killing. I don't do that."

"Such a comfort," said Trell. "Also, I _wouldn't_ be dead, I'd pop back and kick you out."

"You'd try," Nilesy allowed. He gave Trell a long, calculating look. "What happens if somebody gets you during a seizure?"

"Fox rips them limb from limb," said Trell. His voice barely even shook.

"Ah, brilliant," said Nilesy. He kissed Granamyr on the nose. "But I've got the cat on my side. Don't I?"

_Mr_ _rp_ _,_ said Granamyr.

"God, you're cute," said Nilesy.

* * *

 

The rest of the evening hovered somewhere between awkward and _unbearably_ awkward, with Trell painfully aware of how cramped his living space was and Nilesy edging about like he was trying not to touch anything. Eventually Trell just settled into the chair and put on a TV show so he'd have a reason to ignore Nilesy. In his own time, Nilesy drifted to the bed and settled in.

Trell did his best not to notice him. He did pretty well, for a while. Sometime around midnight he finally turned off the TV and wriggled around into a more sleep-worthy position. Despite what he'd said, he hadn't actually ever managed to sleep in the chair before. He probably would have had more luck on the floor.

He was just slipping into a doze when he heard Nilesy sniffle.

Trell froze. It had been a while, and he'd been holding fairly still. Maybe Nilesy thought he was asleep. _He'd_ certainly thought _Nilesy_ was asleep, but from the sound of things, that might not have been the case. He probably ought to keep quiet, go on pretending to be asleep, not say anything—that would be the courteous thing to do. He'd just pretend he'd never heard, come morning, and it would continue not being his business, or his problem.

Granamyr, because he was a being of pure spite set upon the earth solely to ruin Trell's life, hopped up onto the bed and stuck his nose in Nilesy's ear.

_"Ack,"_ Nilesy said quietly. "No, come on, don't do that."

He pushed Granamyr gently. Granamyr responded by climbing onto his chest and holding him down, tail lashing.

"For fuck's sake," Nilesy whispered.

"Hm?" Trell said, pretending to wake up. It was dim in the flat, but there was still enough light for him to see Nilesy stiffen in surprise.

"Nothing, sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Nilesy said. "Just the cat, nothing to worry about."

"If he's giving you trouble, you can just shove him off," Trell said, keeping his voice down. "He'll get the message sooner or later. Or I could lock him in the bathroom."

"No trouble," said Nilesy. "He's fine."

"He's nearly seven kilos, so watch out he doesn't suffocate you," Trell said. "Last thing I want is to have to explain to Nano that my cat killed you."

Nilesy smiled to himself, amused by some private joke.

"It's how I would've wanted to go," Nilesy said. He lifted his head and kissed Granamyr's nose. "Smothered by a cat. You can tell her I said that, she'll believe you."

"Tomorrow's going to be hard enough as it is without you dying," said Trell.

"Well, if it gets off to a bad start, you can always have another go," Nilesy said, a lilt to his voice. "Seize the day, and all that?"

Trell glared at him. "That's not funny," he said.

Nilesy froze, his eyes fixing on a point in the middle distance. His breathing went short and shallow. He swallowed.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm—I'm sorry, you're right. I didn't mean—I didn't think—sorry. I'm sorry."

One of his hands had wandered up through his stammering and started pulling on his hair. His fingers trembled.

"All right," Trell said, perplexed by this disproportionate contrition. "It was inconsiderate and thoughtless, but I forgive you."

Nilesy paused, a strand of hair pinched between two fingers.

"Just like that?" he asked, his brows pulling together.

"Yeah," said Trell, making a face. "What, like I'm going to tar and feather you for one stupid quip?"

For a moment, Nilesy didn't answer. A wry smile pulled up the corner of his mouth. He tugged on his hair some more.

"Sorry," he said. "My apologies used to have to be a lot more in-depth, ahah."

Trell's stomach dropped. He sat back, letting out a slow breath. He swallowed. Things were clicking together in his head, things to do with Strife and with the particular assortment of injuries Nilesy had borne the last time Trell had seen him. It hadn't been the first time he'd seen Nilesy, although it might have been the first time Nilesy had seen him, and certainly the first time outside of Solutions Tower. Nilesy was still just staring up at the ceiling, still absently tugging on his hair. Granamyr flicked one ear back, but otherwise seemed unperturbed.

"Strife?" Trell asked softly. Nilesy glanced at him, the corner of his mouth turned up again.

"Hah. No. That's a symptom. Or so I was told."

More things came together. They did not make for a pretty picture.

"When?" he asked.

"More than an hour ago," Nilesy said dryly.

"Obviously."

Nilesy made a face, sighed, and said, "Coming up on seven months."

"Seven _months?"_ Trell exclaimed.

"I know, I know," Nilesy said. "I should've got over it by now, it's just—"

"What the fuck are you on about?" Trell said. "I'm astonished you're holding up as well as you are."

Shaking his head, Nilesy said, "It's not all that well." His face took on a distant expression, and when he spoke, his voice was vague. "To be honest, I'm astonished there're people who don't know. Feels like . . . it ought to be obvious. Like it's tattooed on every inch of me. Feels like you ought to be able to tell. But, d'you know, most people can't. Some ways that's comforting, because for a little while I can almost pretend it doesn't matter, but. . . . Even my friends forget, and it makes me wonder if . . . if it was really all that bad. You know? Like if it had actually been as bad as I make it out to be, it'd be bleeding out of every pore. But nobody notices. So maybe there's really nothing there."

"People are self-absorbed and useless," Trell said. "It's the human condition."

Nilesy didn't respond. Trell hunched his shoulders and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Are you safe, at least?" he asked. "Are you well out of it?"

"Oh, plenty," Nilesy said offhandedly. "He's dead."

"Good," said Trell, with some vehemence.

Nilesy looked over at him, pained. "You don't mean that," he said.

"I absolutely do," said Trell.

He turned away again, reaching up to scratch Granamyr's chin.

"You wouldn't if you'd known him," he murmured.

"Then I'm glad I didn't know him," said Trell.

Nilesy was quiet for a long time. Trell didn't speak, waiting.

"There were times when I loved him," Nilesy said, very softly. He was still scratching Granamyr's chin, and Granamyr was purring like an outboard motor. "Times when it felt . . . worth it. Times that made me _want_ to stay. Not just because he was the only person who'd ever love me, not just because he had me convinced that all my other friends hated me and wanted to have me locked up, but . . . because he was kind. Because he was gentle. Because he sat and watched terrible movies with me even though he didn't think they were funny and ordered my favorite sort of pizza without my asking and always did the dishes because he knew I hated doing them and . . . all the things nobody else had done. Because sometimes it was like—it was like I was the only person in the world who mattered and he would've done anything for me _just because it was me,_ and I felt like I _owed_ him for that, I felt like nothing would've been too much to ask for that, and. . . ."

He trailed off. A tear slid down the side of his face, into his ear. He approximated a smile and sniffled, shaking his head.

"And honestly, I think he loved me," he said. "Maybe not the ways he said he did, but somewhere, underneath all of it. I don't think he would've hurt me if . . . if things had been different. If he hadn't been . . . under duress."

"I didn't know him," Trell said carefully, "so I can't comment on the truth of that particular statement."

"You haven't got to," Nilesy said. "Some things have just . . . got to be said."

There was a moment of silence, a little longer than it should have been.

"Are you glad he's dead?" Trell asked.

"Yes," Nilesy said, without even pausing to think about it. He made a face. "But don't tell Nano and the others. They miss him."

"Fuck them," said Trell.

"I'm three for five on that one, actually."

"What?"

"It was a joke, forget it." He sighed. "Sorry. I've gone and dumped a whole truckload of emotional baggage on you."

"I asked," Trell pointed out.

"Be honest, I was fishing for it," Nilesy admitted.

"What a catch," Trell murmured. Nilesy winced, letting his head loll against the pillows.

"Oh, _tell_ me you didn't see those stupid fucking posters," he moaned.

"A few," Trell said. It had been more than a few.

"They airbrushed the _hell_ out of me, it was embarrassing," Nilesy said. "Vee's head is _never_ going to un-swell."

"Apart from the glorifying-serial-murder thing, I thought they were rather fetching," Trell said.

"Oh yes, apart from that one _tiny little detail,_ I'm sure they were fantastic pictures," Nilesy said viciously. "Thank God they didn't catch me when I was in my ponytail phase, they'd've made a goddamn dating sim out of me."

"You had a ponytail?"

"For about a year, yeah," said Nilesy. Without any warning, he turned his eyes on Trell and loosed that luminous, crooked grin. "It was _loads_ of fun."

"Braids, et cetera?" Trell managed. There was an interesting heat rising under his collar.

"And all the pretty ribbons," said Nilesy. "Also my cat liked to go after it. Which was hilarious, but often _highly_ inconvenient."

"Your cat?" said Trell, seizing on the topic with some relief.

"Mm," said Nilesy. "Lyndon. Right little terror, he was. Nearly as big as _this_ monster, but full black. I'm sure he's colonized some other poor bastard by now, he was a massive ball of love underneath all the horribleness."

Granamyr flicked his ears back, then got to his feet and stretched and haughtily stalked off. Nilesy halfway sat up as he departed, pouting.

"Ah, so you're the jealous type, are you?" he asked. He dropped back onto the bed with a sigh. "There's just no pleasing some people."

"Gran's a drama queen, don't mind him," said Trell. "If you really want him to love you, all you've got to do is feed him."

"Standard model cat, then," said Nilesy, smiling to himself.

There was another silence. Nilesy shifted in the bed, then looked askance at Trell.

"You haven't got to stay in that chair all night," he said softly, "if you don't want to."

Trell swallowed.

"I think I'm good," he said.

Nilesy watched him for a moment, then looked away.

"Well," he said. "Sleep tight." And he turned his back to Trell, curling up in bed.

"Good night, Nilesy," Trell said.

After just the slightest of pauses, Nilesy said, "G'night, Trell."

* * *

 

First thing in the morning, Trell called Fox to let xem know the situation. He went and stood outside the front door to keep from disturbing Nilesy.

_"You're up early,"_ Fox remarked, first thing. _"What's gone wrong?"_

"Er," he said. "Hi. So, you remember Nano's friend who's a serial killer?"

_"Yeah?"_ said Fox.

"Well, he's staying at my place now."

There was a moment of silence.

_"Sorry, d'you wanna run that by me again?"_

"Nano's serial-killer friend is staying at my place now," Trell said. "Look, I was going to tell you about it sooner, but—"

_"Are you all right?"_ xe interrupted.

"Y-yeah, no, I'm fine, he's mainly harmless and he's in love with my cat," said Trell. "Also apparently Nano and everyone are going to come over to talk plans at some point today."

_"Right, I'll be there in half an hour."_

"You really haven't got to."

_"I'll stop to pick up some sort of hair dye or something on the way, can't have him getting recognized. He's a brunette, right?"_

"It's closer to black," Trell said helplessly. "You're not . . . angry, or anything?"

_"Bit miffed you've adopted a serial killer without telling me,"_ Fox said. _"And I'm not going to leave you alone with him, fuck's sake."_

"It's not like he's going to hurt me. Even if he tried, I'd just pop back and make sure he didn't."

_"It's not_ _him_ _I'm concerned about,"_ Fox said primly.

"Oh, come off it," Trell said, even as his cheeks went hot.

_"_ _Look, if the police turn up and shoot you both, you're going to have to go on the run no matter what sort of time traveling bullshit you can pull off_ _,"_ xe went on. _"Which is why I'm bringing the hair dye."_

"Sure," said Trell, whose mind had been going in a different direction altogether. "Of course. I'll see you in half an hour, then."

_"Right. And, er. . . ."_

"What?"

_"Nothing. Just don't die or anything."_

"Poor immortal me will do his best."

_"Ah, fuck off."_

"Bye Fox."

Xe hung up, and Trell went back inside. Nilesy was up and about, rooting through the fridge while Granamyr tried his damnedest to take his legs out from under him.

"Fox is on the way," Trell said. "Xe's decided we're dying your hair so you'll be less recognizable."

"Ah," said Nilesy. "Right. Grand. Thanks for letting me know."

"Er, sorry," said Trell. "Xe does get a tad overbearing at times."

"No no, it's fine, totally understand, it's for the best," said Nilesy. Trell did not miss the glassy resignation in his voice, the pain in his expression. Now that he was looking for it, Nilesy's careful unobtrusiveness smarted more of fear than social ineptitude.

"Unless you'd rather not," Trell offered. "I'm sure I could talk xem out of it."

To his horror, instead of taking comfort from this, Nilesy tensed up even further.

"No, it's fine, honestly. It's a good idea," he said. "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to sound dismissive, it's—sorry. You haven't got to do anything, I'm sure xe knows what xe's doing."

Trell was on the verge of arguing with him when he realized that anything he said was only going to make it worse.

"All right," he said. "If you change your mind, just . . . let me know."

"Yeah, will do," Nilesy said, not without a certain amount of relief.

Having nothing better to do and wanting desperately to be out of the room, Trell went off to take a shower.


	36. Chapter 35

After dropping Nilesy off with Trell, Nano headed back to her flat as quickly as she could without risking getting pulled over. Lomadia would be worried sick about her, and about Nilesy, despite their brief conversation that morning. That had been almost twelve hours ago now, and it had been made abundantly clear in recent days just how rapidly things could go wrong. She assumed Panda had been caught up, although certainly not with as much detail as he would want.

She wondered how she was going to explain what she'd seen on Fair Isle. There didn't seem to be words for it. Maybe Lomadia and Panda had known Liam better, but from the fact that they'd never talked about him, she doubted it.Still, that was a minor issue and she didn't mind figuring it out when she got there, after she'd hugged her wife for about five minutes.

It would be good to sleep in her own bed, too. It would be good to sleep, period. Things were still bad, but they were slightly less bad than they had been when she'd left. She at least had some room to catch her breath before it was time to worry about the next thing.

Nano parked sloppily and ran up the stairs. The key turned in the lock and the door swung open with an easy familiarity. Her heart was already singing.

"Sweetheart, I'm home!" she called as she entered.

She made it two steps and stopped dead.

Lalna was sitting at the kitchen table. They were watching her. Their eyes were blue. Their hands were folded on the table.

The door swung shut with a thud.

"Hi," Lalna said.

"Um," said Nano. Her head was full of static and white noise. "Hi . . . Lal. Um. Where—where are Lom and Panda?"

They shrugged. "I dunno. Nobody was here when I woke up."

She was already so rigid with fear that this barely even swayed her. The dread in her stomach was a distant thing, shoved down by the panicked certainty that something truly irreversible was about to happen to her.

"Oh," she said. "Um. Lal, I—I'm sorry. For . . . shutting you down. And for—for lying to you. I'm sorry."

They tipped their head to the side. "All right," they said. "I've already gone over the change logs, and you didn't actually change anything except what Specimen Five had already tampered with. So even if you started out lying to me, you didn't go through with it. I've worked out that you and Panda and Lomadia reacted the way you did because you were scared, and fear makes humans extremely irrational and violent. I wasn't scared, but I did think you were going to hurt me, and reacted accordingly."

"Lal, I—I would never hurt you," Nano said.

"Yes you would," they said. "You have, loads of times."

She gulped. There was nothing in her head, no ideas or escape plans, no way out. Lalna went on.

"Xephos said the same thing, that he would never hurt me," they said. "I've sort of come to expect it by now. I'm not angry with you. But I do think you should know that if you ever try to go in my head again without my full consent, I _will_ kill you."

They said it with such perfect unconcern that it made Nano's blood run cold. The air in the room had gone hot and thin. Her heart hammered in her chest. Lalna's eyes were blue, giving nothing away.

"Okay, Lal," she croaked. "I won't—I won't do that, then."

"Okay, good," they said. "I'm glad we've got that cleared up. We should probably focus on finding out where Panda and Lomadia went, because I've been awake for almost eighteen hours and they haven't come back. Also I'll need to drop by our old lab at some point, because I've only got about eight days' worth of power left and I haven't got the time to explore other options. Where've you been, by the way?"

"I . . . I was . . . rescuing Nilesy," she managed. She was going to start crying. It was too much. She needed Lomadia. She needed _somebody._

"Oh," said Lalna. "How'd that go?"

"We—got him back," she said. "He's staying with Trell."

"Cool," said Lalna. "Anyway, I think I've worked out a way to use the voltaic node, if we can get it. It won't keep me alive forever, but it should buy me a couple extra weeks, at least. I figure if we can't get the blueprints for a proper power core off of Five, we can at least steal Lalnable's old one. Or both, I'm not picky. It's not impossible there might be some old L41 units still hanging round YogLabs, but I dunno if Lalnable built his with proper power cores, and only the _J_ models onward had compatible configurations, assuming they haven't already been repurposed."

"Lalna," she said, and she couldn't stop her voice from cracking. "Lal, please, just—just stop. For five _minutes,_ please, just . . . stop."

They looked her over dubiously. "Okay," they said.

Nano tottered to her room. She dropped her bag. She stood for uncounted minutes, staring at the empty bed. Her vision blurred, and then tears began to crawl down her face. A shivering awoke in the core of her that took all the strength from her limbs. She subsided onto the floor, unseeing, barely able to breathe.

Behind her, she heard a quiet creak of floorboards. Lalna sat down near her, cross-legged. Their eyes glowed a dim purple.

"I'm sorry, Nano," they said, small and mousy and unutterably sad. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I've got to be like this. I'm so sorry any of this ever happened."

Without a word, Nano flung her arms around them, buried her face in their chest. They embraced her, holding her close, the low hum of their systems engulfing her.

"I love you," they said. "I promise I do. I'm sorry I can't—"

She shook her head desperately, clutching them tighter.

"You do whatever it takes," she said, her voice broken in three places. _"Whatever_ it takes for you to survive, I don't care. Just _survive."_

They patted her back, gentle, reassuring.

"I will," they said, and then added, almost fearfully, "Mum."

Nano sobbed, filled with a pain so great and beautiful that for a moment, she could not speak for it.

"I love you," she whispered, "child."

Lalna made a quiet, amused noise.

"It sounds silly, when you say it like that," they said.

"It does, doesn't it?" Nano said. She sniffled.

"I really like it, though," Lalna said, pained and hopeful.

"I do, too," Nano said. "I really do, too, Lal, I like it so much."

They bumped their forehead against the top of her head. "Thanks, Mum," they murmured. "I love you, too."

Nano peeled herself off of Lalna and put a hand on their chest. She looked up at them and smiled. Their eyes were shifting colors, almost kaleidoscopic, and their systems were whirring along audibly. She laid her other hand on their arm.

"It's time to turn it back off now, love," she said, although her voice shook. "You haven't got the time to spare on . . . on comforting me."

Lalna's eyes settled on purple, their mouth pulling into a frown.

"I really do love you," they said.

"I know," said Nano. "I love you, too. That's why we've got to make sure you make it. Whatever it takes."

They watched her for a moment more. Their eyes flickered, then turned flat blue. Their face went expressionless. They took their hands off her.

"At a guess, I'd think Five and Lalnable had something to do with Lomadia and Panda going missing," they said. Their eyes flicked to yellow. "Ah! You got a voicemail on your phone. Also they blocked Lomadia's number and turned off your notifications, ooh, that's clever."

"How—how can you tell that?" Nano asked. She felt like she'd missed a stair in the dark, the lurch of her stomach and the sudden unbalancing. "The battery's dead."

"Oh, I've had all your phones on continuous backups for months," Lalna said, completely shameless. "It's all secure, don't worry. I figured it was the easiest way to be on top of things if anybody else wound up secretly in contact with Section L employees like Zylus was. I wasn't going to check it unless somebody started acting weird."

"And you didn't . . . _say_ anything about it?"

"Of course not, that would've defeated the whole purpose," Lalna said, rolling their eyes. "If your battery's dead, you should plug it in so you can listen to the message. Your charger's by the couch."

"That—okay," said Nano. Every word that came out of Lalna's mouth sickened her further, but there was nothing she could do about it. She sniffled, wiped the tears off her face. Shakily, she got to her feet and went to the other room. A brief search found her charger, and with trembling hands she plugged in her phone. After a minute or two, she was able to call her voicemail, although (as promised) there was no indication that she'd gotten a message.

With her heart in her throat, Nano waited, hoping futilely for some benign explanation.

As soon as the message began, she knew she wouldn't get one.

_"H_ _i_ _Nano_ _, it's me,"_ Lomadia said. She sounded nervous, tired. _"_ _Um, so, Panda and me are doing something that's probably really really stupid, but we sort of had to, and I wish you would've answered but you haven't so we're doing it anyway. It'll probably be okay. Um._ _"_

She took a deep breath. When next she spoke, her voice shook.

_"Zy_ _lus_ _isn't_ _dead._ _He's alive._ _He_ _called Panda and left a message and said—I dunno, all sorts of stuff about the drones and only pretending to be dead and he knows about Lalnable and . . . it was really confusing, but everything he says is confusing_ _._ _He said to come meet him at_ _some_ _pub_ _at ten fifteen._ _We'll probably be back in like an hour and I'll just call you back and tell you everything and there'll be nothing to worry about. Um. Unless it's a trap, which Panda thinks it might be and I think it might be, too, in which case, you might have to come rescue us._ _I'm sorry_ _we_ _left Lal alone, but_ _everything happened really fast._ _Panda's calling_ _Zoey_ _to see if she can com_ _e keep an eye on them,_ _but even if she can't they just did their waking up thing and we put them back to sleep so even if it takes like,_ _ages_ _, we'll be back before they try to wake up again_ _._ _I'm really sorry about this. I'll talk to you soon,_ _unless something goes really wrong. I hope everything's okay with Nilesy. I love you lots. And . . . yeah. Love you lots._ _"_

There was a brief pause, and then the message ended. Nano sat there breathing heavily, her teeth clenched. It was all she could do not to throw the phone across the room and scream.

They'd been missing for nearly twenty-four hours. Nano's phone had been compromised. It must have been Five and Lalnable, it _must_ have been a trap. Somehow they had made a convincing enough mockery of Zylus's voice to draw Panda and Lomadia out, and then ambushed them when they'd had their guards down. Then when Nano had gotten back and called Lomadia—

She dialed without thinking. The call rang out to voicemail. She couldn't breathe or think. The tone sounded in her ear.

_"Where the fuck is my wife?"_ Nano screamed, before she could stop herself. She balked, then hung up, before she kept going, before she started crying. She wasn't going to give Five the satisfaction. She'd already given her too much.

Lalna poked their head out from the bedroom.

"That probably won't help," they said.

"I'm aware of that," Nano said through gritted teeth. She was shaking so hard her vision was blurring. "They took her phone. They fucking took her phone and texted me and I fucking bought it hook, line, and sinker! _God,_ I'm so fucking _stupid!_ I should've known! Why didn't I fucking _know?"_

"Why didn't Panda know he was listening to a bunch of mangled audio files of Zylus's voice?" Lalna said. "That's what it was, by the way. I guess it would be pretty convincing for anybody who can't see the actual file, or who doesn't know anything about audio editing. He tried to call Zoey and Fiona, too, but it looks like all his outgoing calls were rerouted straight to Lalnable."

"Fuck," Nano hissed. _"Fuck!"_

"Here's the good news," Lalna said. "I can call Lalnable now."

Before Nano could say anything about this, the phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down at it, drawn between rage and terror. There was a text from Lomadia's number.

All it said was: _You'll see_ _< 3_

* * *

 

It took almost two hours for Nano to calm down enough to be coherent again, most of which time she spent under a cold shower. She kept expecting to come up with ideas, to find a plan solidifying out of the mush in her head, but it never happened. Instinct told her to jump in the car and start driving, but she had no idea where _to._ Lomadia hadn't mentioned the name of the pub. Maybe she or Panda had used their phone to navigate to it, and Lalna could pull the information, but what good would it do? There was no way they would still be there, not after all this time. And who was to say she wasn't _supposed_ to come running? Five and Lalnable now had the best possible bait, and there was no way they _wouldn't_ use it.

She'd have to tell Nilesy.

At long last, she came to the conclusion that she wasn't getting anywhere, and turned the water off. She got dressed again and wandered back out into the flat. Lalna was sitting on the floor, their eyes dark. They flickered to life, neutral blue, as she entered.

"Hi," they said. "What's up?"

Nano took a deep breath.

"Before anything else," she said, "I need to know: what else have you been doing behind my back?"

They frowned. "What d'you mean?"

"I mean like tapping all our phones," she said. "I mean like installing MALaRs, which, by the way, _when_ did that happen?"

"Oh, pff, ages ago," said Lalna, like there was any way they could be unsure. "About a month after we killed the Board? I started working on it right after, but it took a bit to get it together."

Nano swallowed. "And you didn't think to mention this to anybody," she said.

"It wasn't important," said Lalna. "I would've mentioned it if it had been important."

"You almost shot Lomadia."

"No I didn't," they said, rolling their eyes—which were still blue, impenetrable. Before Nano could argue, they went on, "God, no, I haven't got the power to shoot anybody, I'd keel over dead on the spot. It wouldn't've _hurt_ her, just blinded her."

She had to take a second to compose herself. Emotional outbursts weren't going to get her anywhere.

"Is there anything else?" she said. "Anything else that you've done that you haven't told me about?"

"Uh, yeah, loads of stuff," said Lalna. "Nearly everything I do, I don't tell you about."

"Anything _relevant."_

They made a face, then brightened. "Oh yeah! When I was erasing all our records from being in America—to make us harder to trace, you remember—I found your test results from Sunrise Diagnostics. I saved a copy. I haven't quite worked out what was going on with you, but I've got a pretty good idea."

Nano stared at them. Her head was totally empty, and so was her chest. She couldn't breathe properly.

"You kept that," she said, "for six _months?_ You hid that from me for six _months?"_

"I didn't _hide_ it, you never asked," Lalna said, pouting. "I thought if you'd wanted to know, you would've looked them up on your own _ages_ ago. Once I'd worked out exactly what was going on with you, I would've told you. It was taking longer because you never wanted to do any experiments with me. D'you want to know what I've got so far? It's got some holes, but I figure it's pretty solid."

"You might as well," Nano said, brittle.

"I think it was some sort of asexual reproduction," said Lalna. "Like hydras and corals do. I don't know for sure what caused it, but I think it might've been hormonal, since we were all settled down for so long and you were properly dating Lomadia."

"Is it . . . going to happen _again?"_

"Probably not for a while," Lalna said. "The metabolic cost is probably super high. I wish we had some samples of Five's tissues, because I'd like to look at her telomeres. If they're not significantly shorter, then she'll probably outlive you by like, three decades. Which is neat!"

Nano clenched her jaw and breathed deeply. It was difficult to keep her temper under control, difficult to not scream and throw things.

"Nilesy thinks she might have inherited my memories," she managed.

"Oh, _man,"_ Lalna said, their eyes going bright green. "Oh, _man,_ if that's what's happened, that's _incredible!_ It makes sense, right, otherwise she wouldn't be able to do this stuff, but—just _wow!_ D'you know what that means? If _she_ can bud too, and there's not too many transcription errors, your mind could live for centuries! Not _you,_ of course, but a version of you. D'you think Strife's got tissue samples? I wish I'd thought to get samples from you when it was happening, because then I might have some idea of what causes it and we could—"

"We could stop it from ever happening again," Nano snapped.

Lalna gave her a put-upon look.

"Nano, come _on!"_ they whined. "The implications of this are _massive!_ Just for human cloning, seriously, if we could work out the mechanism for brain transfer—"

"I don't care! I don't give a fuck about any of that!"

"D'you just _hate science?"_ Lalna demanded.

"It's not fucking _science,_ Lal, it's my body! It's _me!"_

"What's the difference?" they asked.

Nano pulled up short. She swallowed, blinking.

"I don't know that I can explain it to you," she said carefully.

"Why not?"

"Because you were made for a reason," she said, "and I wasn't."

Lalna pouted at her, but didn't seem overly upset about it. That was something of a relief.

"All right," they said. "I guess I'll figure it out on my own, just like everything else you won't explain to me. Anyways, I think that's probably about it, in terms of stuff I've been doing that might be relevant."

"Okay," said Nano. She took a deep breath and let it out again. "Okay."

"What have _you_ been doing, while I was shut down?" Lalna asked.

Nodding, Nano rubbed at her eye.

"Mainly just . . . figuring things out," she said. "A lot of it was spent trying to work out how to rescue Nilesy. Trell and I broke into YogLabs to find out everything we could about the serum, and we found out it's . . . basically _extract of Xephos._ I think Lalnable used it to—to steal Walter Cornish's body, although I'm not sure why."

Lalna tipped their head to the side. "That's all you've done? In a week?"

"It's been slow going," Nano said, gritting her teeth. "The only other thing that's happened is that Five and Lalnable orchestrated an attack on Strife Solutions, using the B714 serum as a sort of . . . mutagenic catalyst. Apparently it causes nearly instantaneous manifestation."

"Cool," said Lalna. They looked impressed.

There was a lull. Lalna watched her, expectant. She shut her eyes and swallowed her pride.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

Lalna didn't even pause to consider it. "At this point, it's best if everybody gets a good night's sleep," they said. "You're obviously not thinking clearly and Nilesy isn't likely to be, either. You'll both be much more effective once you've slept."

"There's really _nothing else_ we can do?"

"Sure there is, but it won't be as helpful," said Lalna. "Most of it can be done after sleeping, too."

"Right," said Nano. She added under her breath, "Like I'm going to be able to sleep."

"I could get you something for that," Lalna offered. "There's a pharmacy just down the road, I could fake you a prescription for alprazolam and pick it up within, like, an hour probably."

"Same for Nilesy?" Nano asked, although she felt ill.

"No," said Lalna, as though this was silly. "All we've got to do for Nilesy is just not tell him. Until the morning, obviously we'll tell him in the morning."

"We can't _not tell him_ that Lom and Panda have been kidnapped!" Nano cried, scandalized.

"Sure we can," said Lalna. "It's even easier than telling him."

"It's wrong!"

"Nah, it's fine, it'll be fine."

"What—how even—he'll be furious with us!"

"Okay, so he'll be furious with us," said Lalna. "It won't make a difference. He was much more upset with us last year—for much better reasons—and he still helped."

"It isn't _fair_ to him, Lal! He deserves to know!"

"And if we tell him right now, he won't sleep," said Lalna. Their eyes turned orange and they shook their head. "You always do this. You always ask me what to do and then argue with me when I tell you. I don't know why you bother asking."

Nano took a deep breath. She didn't want to start yelling again, or crying. She had to remind herself that Lalna was doing the best they could with a large portion of their brain shut off.

"Lal," she said, "your plan is good. It is good, and I believe you that it would be the most efficient. But you're neglecting compassion, which is more important than efficiency."

"I'm _not_ neglecting compassion," Lalna said. Their eyes were looking markedly redder. "I know he'll be upset, both about what happened and about the fact we didn't tell him right away. I'm _telling_ you, that's _less important_ than him getting a full night's sleep. If he doesn't sleep properly, he can't help as much, and it'll set back everything, _including_ rescuing Rythian and Panda and Lomadia. His feelings aren't as important as their lives. I don't know why you're having so much trouble acknowledging that."

"He can afford to lose a little sleep! It's not going to make that much of a difference!"

Lalna's eyes flickered pure red and Nano nearly climbed up the wall.

"Every plan you've made so far has gotten more people hurt," they said. "You're done making plans. You're done deciding what we do. You obviously can't be trusted to make good decisions anymore."

"Lalna, I understand that you disagree with me, but—"

"I'm not arguing with you," they interrupted. "I'm stating facts. You're not in charge anymore."

"And what if I call Nilesy _anyway?"_ she demanded, bristling.

"First of all, you can't call Nilesy because he hasn't got his phone, and second of all, you can't call anybody else because I just disabled yours."

"You _what?"_ Nano said, as the walls began to close in on her.

"I told you, you can't be trusted to make good decisions," Lalna said. Their eyes had returned to their neutral blue and were staying there. "So I'm removing your ability to act on your decisions. I'd prefer not to have to enforce that measure physically, but if you won't be reasonable, I will."

"So am I just your—your _prisoner_ now, is that it?" she sputtered, while panic clawed up her spine.

_"Prisoner?"_ said Lalna, making a face. "No, of course not, don't be silly. You can do whatever you want, so long as it doesn't compromise our efforts to rescue Rythian and Panda and Lomadia."

"So I can do whatever I want as long as _you_ say it's all right?" she said, fists clenching.

"Uhhhh yeah, that sounds good," said Lalna. She didn't know why they bothered with the pretense of thought. "You really ought to sleep now, though."

"How the _fuck—_ no, y'know what, fine," Nano said, glaring at them. "Since you know fucking everything, _fine,_ I'll go."

"Thanks," they said, turning away from her with that same unconcerned dismissal that Liam had been so adept at. Nano considered bolting for the door, just to see if they'd stop her.

She considered it for a little longer.

She bolted for the door.

Lalna's hand closed on her arm before she'd made it three steps. She nearly lashed out at them on instinct. Their grip was just slightly too tight. They towered over her.

"You really are being unreasonable," they said, perplexed.

"Put—okay, Lal, let go," said Nano. Her voice shook. She was so coiled with tension that she felt she would come apart any second now.

"You're just going to try and run again."

"No, I'm not. Honestly. Let go of me, please." She raised her hands in surrender, looking up at them, meeting their eyes.

"You just lied to me about that," they pointed out. "And I'm not going to believe you again. You're acting like this because you're frightened, and it's made you stupid and impulsive. At this point I don't trust you not to climb out your window during the night."

Nano, who had been considering doing exactly that, clenched her jaw and struggled to breathe normally. Tears were welling in her eyes and she couldn't blink them back.

_"You're_ not making me any less frightened," she said. Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"Oh," they said. "Yeah, I guess not."

They let go of her. She took a step back, for all the good it would do. For a time, the two of them stood there in silence, neither moving nor speaking. Nano was choking down tears, determined not to show any further vulnerability. Lalna was just watching her, unconcerned.

"Good night, Lal," Nano said at last, though her voice shook. "I love you."

"Good night," Lalna said.

There was another moment of silence, another missed stair in the dark.

Nano turned and went into her room, mostly so they wouldn't see her crying.


	37. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @meapgirl on tumblr for helping me with Britishisms for this chapter!

They were forty minutes out of Bristol when the tire blew.

"What was that?" Lomadia demanded, clapping both hands over her ears. The car canted to the left, wobbling and bouncing. Panda could barely keep it on the road, and certainly not at speed.

"I think it was the tire," he said, pulling over. "Shit. _Shit._ No, it's fine, it shouldn't take long, we'll just fix it, we'll still make it in time, it'll be _fine."_

He turned the engine off and kicked his door open. He could feel the seconds draining away. Around them, there was nothing but farmland, dark and rolling. They had taken a back-road detour to avoid a wreck—traffic had been nearly bumper to bumper, and moving at a crawl. Bristol cast a dull orange glow on the clouds behind them, and Birmingham matched it ahead.The only light came from the car itself, spilling out of the headlights and the open doors. Lomadia got out and came around to the driver's side, looking over Panda's shoulder as he examined the tire.

"Jesus, it's dark," Panda muttered under his breath. "Is there a flashlight in there? Something?"

"It's not that bad," said Lomadia. "I mean, it's not that dark. The tire's really messed up."

"You're an _owl,_ and _I've_ only got one eye," Panda shot. "It's _that dark._ Has your phone got a flashlight in? Because mine doesn't."

"I dunno," said Lomadia. "I'll check."

She reached into her pocket, then stopped. Her wings fluffed up and her head snapped around to glare out at the farmland.

"What?" said Panda.

"Shh," she said.

Panda shut up. Slowly, slowly, he stood, holding his breath. It was quiet. There were crickets chirping. There were no other cars on the road. Somewhere far off, an owl hooted. Lomadia's head twitched, but not towards the sound. She turned, by inches and degrees, until she was facing the ditch by the side of the road.

"Someone's here," she said, her wings flaring out behind her. "Someone's—"

There was a roar, a blinding burst of blue flame. A white meteor slammed down onto the hood of the car and flattened it with an ear-splitting _crunch._ Glass exploded from the windows. All the lights went out, save two.

 _"Hello,"_ the thing purred. Its face was pulled into a mad grin, bathed in the red light from its eyes. "Remember me?"

The world dropped into slow motion. Panda sprinted away from the car. He reached for a knife that wasn't there. The thing leapt down from the hood of the car. It was _fast,_ it was too fast, moving in real time through the slowed-down world. An iron arm caught him across the chest. Two of his ribs snapped on impact. A vice crushed his biceps.

"Because _I_ remember ~~you~~."

Something struck him in the back of the neck. There was a horrific _crack._ His body went limp. He crumpled. He couldn't move. He couldn't _move._

"Ringing any bells?" the man inquired. He loomed over Panda, still grinning. His eyes were like hellfire. Tawny wings bloomed in the night sky above him.

Panda couldn't even gather himself enough to warn her.

Lalnable whirled. He caught Lomadia's ankle as she swooped down on him. He spun on his heel and threw her. There was a crash. She cried out. Lalnable leapt away, out of Panda's sight.

No matter how Panda tried, his body wouldn't respond. He screamed in helpless frustration. There was a struggle. Lomadia cried out again. Lalnable laughed, wild and mad. Claws screeched on metal.

The struggling grew fainter, slower. It got very, very quiet.

"Lom?" Panda gasped. _"Lom?"_

The pattering of falling liquid, drawing nearer. A red glow painting the asphalt. The smell of burning flesh. A bare, white, human foot at the edge of his vision.

Lalnable knelt down over Panda, rolled him onto his back. There were three gashes in his chest, pouring blood. He started giggling.

Panda could do nothing—couldn't even struggle for fear of killing himself. One huge hand rested on the side of his face, the heel hovering just over his eye. Two fingers of the other hand spread his eyelids apart. A piercing whine kicked up and a bright red glow shone into Panda's eye.

"Unfortunately, hahah, I haven't got the time to enjoy you like I did Walter," Lalnable said, his voice hiccuping with mirth. "But I've requested YogLabs come and pick you up, so I'm sure _someone_ will, hahah. Ahahahah."

"I'm going to fucking skin you alive," Panda snarled, terrified out of his mind.

 _"Hahah!_ Yes, yes, blind and paralyzed, I'm sure you will. Good trick, hahah."

"Fucking _do it_ then!"

There was a _pop_ and a flash of light. Needles stabbed through Panda's eye. The world went pitch black. He shrieked in pain and fear.

"You didn't think I would!" Lalnable crowed. "Hahah! Ha ~~hah~~ ah!"

 _"Fuck you!"_ Panda screamed. Tears streamed from his eye. He was powerless, helpless. The darkness was complete, impenetrable.

"Oh, you poor dear," Lalnable said. "I'm going to leave you right here, so nobody runs you over. Say goodbye to Lomadia, now. You won't be seeing her again, hahah. You—hah—you won't be seeing _anyone_ again! _Hahahah!"_

An incoherent cry tore from Panda's throat. Lalnable took his face in both hands and kissed his forehead. His lips and palms were burning hot.

"Goodbye, Dmitri," he murmured. Panda nearly threw up.

Lalnable dropped Panda unceremoniously. The radiator heat of him moved away. There was a roar, a gust of wind.

There was silence.

Panda screamed for help until his voice gave out.

* * *

 

More than two dozen cars had gone by, and not a one of them had stopped. It might have been minutes or hours that he'd lain there, alone in the darkness. His crumpled body must have been hidden from sight, by the darkness or by the car. Lomadia was either dead or kidnapped. Nano wouldn't be back on land for another eight hours, if she even made it back. He'd given up on rescue. He'd given up on help. Even YogLabs probably wasn't coming. It was only a matter of time before something turned up and ate him.

At long last, there was a squeal of brakes, maybe from a bus or large truck, accompanied by the low mutter of an engine. Doors slammed, and there were footsteps. Panda held his breath, suddenly torn between fear and hope. If it was YogLabs, he might actually be better off dying in a ditch.

"Welly welly welly!" somebody said brightly. The voice was American, familiar, but Panda couldn't place it. It wasn't Strife. "Right smack where he said it'd be. See, that's the kinda precision I like. Hey, go poke him, see if he's dead yet."

"Dr. Vox—" someone else began, put-upon.

"He's not gonna _hurt_ you, c'mon, seriously. If he's dead he's dead, and if he's not, he's not goin' anywhere. _Sheesh."_

"I'm—I'm not dead," Panda said, though the words tasted foul. He needed help, and in the moment, anything was preferable to dying. There were people who needed him. He couldn't die without at least _trying_ to save his friends. Even if it was YogLabs, they'd probably keep him alive.

Probably. But what choice did he have?

"Heyyy, there we go!" Dr. Vox said. "Harry, go put a neck brace on him so we can load him up."

 _"Me?_ Why _me?"_

"'Cause you annoyed me on the way over, buddy," Dr. Vox said warmly.

A litany of grumbling kicked up, growing nearer. Panda didn't dare to try and turn his head. It wouldn't have helped anyway.Something prodded him in the shoulder.

"Can you feel that?" Harry asked.

"Y-yeah," Panda said, because he didn't know why he was being asked and whether or not lying would make things worse for him.

"O- _kay,_ gotcha," said Harry. There was a scuffing. Something touched his neck. He yelped. Harry yelped.

"I can't see," Panda blurted, desperate. "I can't see what you're doing."

"That'd do it," Harry said dryly. "Fine, I'll walk you through it. I'm gonna put the brace on you now. Don't twitch, or you'll make it worse. Three, two, one."

The touch came again. Something stiff and scratchy pushed against Panda's jaw. Pain jabbed through his neck and he sucked in a breath. There were some clicks as Harry tightened the brace.

"He's good to go," Harry called.

"Okey-doke!" said Dr. Vox. "Hey, somebody call Chrissa, tell her we're on the way. We're gonna need some place to put the little guy."

Panda bit his tongue to keep from spitting curses at him. He'd have his revenge later, when he could see. And move.

"You two go help get him in the truck," Dr. Vox continued. "I'm gonna get prepped."

There was a squeak, like a car's suspension under load, then some other noises, a crash and a rattle. Six hands gripped Panda's arms and legs and hoisted him up. He was placed on some kind of gurney and strapped in. He focused on breathing as they rolled him along. He kept his eye closed, because it was easier to pretend that the darkness was self-inflicted.

He was lifted up into the truck, and the gurney was clamped in. Doors slammed. They started moving again.

"Hey, kid, how much do you weigh?" Dr. Vox asked. "Hundred ten? Hundred twenty?"

"Eight and a half stone," Panda said.

 _"Ugh,_ units. What's that in kilograms? Harry?"

"Uhhh," said Harry. "Hang on—fifty-four ish?"

"Close enough! Get him on the nitrous, we'll park somewhere for the fun part."

"The what?" said Panda, his heart leaping into his throat. "What're you doing?"

"Takin' any meds, little buddy?" Dr. Vox asked.

"Fuck you, what the fuck are you _doing?"_ Panda spat.

Somebody slipped a plastic mask over his nose and mouth. With the neck brace in place, he couldn't even make overtures at struggling.

"Hey, if you don't wanna tell me, that's on you," said Dr. Vox. There was a crinkling noise, and when next he spoke, it was around some sort of object. "If you wake up in the middle, you'll wish you'd told me."

"In the middle of _what? What the fuck are you doing?"_

Somebody started swabbing the inside of Panda's arm. He screamed through his teeth.

"Okay okay, I'll tell you," said Dr. Vox, laughing. There was a loud, wet _pop,_ and his diction became clearer. "See, there's this little provision that my department can't experiment on prisoners anymore. _But,_ until you're officially entered in the system, i.e. through those big shiny YogLabs doors, you're not a prisoner! So we got a little emergency response team together so's we can still get work done. We'll drive around for a little while, park for a couple hours, yada yada. And _then_ we'll take you down to the prison, which we're _also_ not supposed to do, but hey! You're never getting out again, so nobody's gonna _know."_

Panda's mind was fogging up, like a window in winter. His anger was slipping through his fingers. Something pricked him in the arm and he barely flinched. Dr. Vox patted his shoulder.

"But don't worry, buddy," he said. "We'll take real good care of you."

Panda clung to consciousness for another ten seconds, and then knew no more.

* * *

 

"Oy."

Panda groaned. His head was aching fit to burst. There was a low hum coming from somewhere. There was a powerful smell of antiseptic. He rubbed at his eyes, clumsy and sleepy.

"Psst, oy," the voice came again. "Come on, rise and shine, son."

He pried his eyelids open. All around him was a white blur. He sat bolt upright, clasping both hands on the back of his neck. He held them out in front of his face, turning them back and forth. His vision was blurry, smeared, but he could see. His eyepatch was missing. He rubbed his eyes again.

Both eyes.

Panda froze. He was dreaming—he must have been dreaming. He sat very still. He ran his fingertips over his eyelids.

"Havin' a séance over there, sunshine?"

Panda looked up. He still couldn't get his eyes to focus, like there were six or seven layers of cellophane over them. He could, vaguely, distinguish a large brown blur some four meters away. Carefully, he inched towards it. He encountered a pane of glass.

"Am I—are we in YogLabs?" he asked.

"Got it in one," said someone else, with a thick London accent.

"Yeah yeah, nice goin'," said the first. "I'm Trott, that's Jess, who the hell're you?"

"Panda," said Panda. "What's—what's going on?"

"What's goin' on, sunshine," said Trott, "is that you're the first newbie we've had in—what, six months?"

"At least," said Jess. "Nobody in or out. _And_ no more tests, which I ain't got a problem with, but who knows how long _that's_ gonna last."

"So that's our issue, son," said Trott. "Where'd you come from? How'd they nab you?"

"I—I'm not—hang on, just hang on a second," said Panda. He touched his face again. He still had two eyes. The knotted mass of scar tissue was gone, although some of it lingered out to the side. The inside of his eye socket was sore.

"Yeah yeah, get your bearings," said Jess.

"When I came in here," Panda said weakly, "did I—and this is going to sound really stupid, but—did I have _two_ eyes, when I came in?"

There was a pause.

"Er, yeah?" said Trott. "Why, you meant to have more?"

"I— _how?"_ Panda demanded of no one.

"Beats the hell outta me," said Jess.

"No, I was—I was completely fucking blind when they got me, I was _paralyzed,_ I had like four broken ribs, how—why—"

"It's the serum," came a third voice, American, more to Panda's right than in front of him. Both Jess and Trott groaned.

"Always on about your _fucking_ serum," Trott said.

"Swear on my life," Jess said.

"It _is!"_ they whined. "It's real, I'm telling you!"

"Er," said Panda, "hello?"

"Hi." Somebody knocked on the wall to his right. "I'm Garion."

"Garion's our special little normie, ain't he," said Trott.

"I'm a political prisoner," Garion sniffed. "Kirin'll let me out as soon as—as everything's blown over. But I'm telling you, the serum is _real._ They talked about it all the time! I was there, I got to listen in. Or—well, okay, Ridge and Kirin might've just forgotten I was in the room, but it still counts!"

"The—hang on," said Panda. "The serum that . . . heals stuff?"

"Yes!" said Garion. "You know about it? You've heard of it?"

"Uh, well, yeah," said Panda. "I've had it used on me. Before—before today. Apparently also today."

 _"Hah!"_ Garion crowed. "I told you! I told you both! You owe me ten pounds each!"

"Fuck's sake," said Jess.

"The other thing—hang on, how many other people are in here?" Panda said. He was doing a lot of catching up. His brain wasn't working as fast as it should have been, which he put down to the lingering effects of whatever anesthesia he'd been under, probably for quite some time.

"Nobody else that's gonna be doin' any talking, sunshine," said Trott.

"Right," said Panda, discomfited. He remembered. "But—Garion, you're seriously not Powered?"

"No," said Garion. "I might've kinda turned conscientious objector and Kirin might've thrown me down here _but!_ It was only to protect me, because the political climate was so bad! He'll let me out as soon as it's safe."

"I don't know how to tell you this," Panda said carefully, "but Kirin's been dead for six months."

"Ooh, now that's a tough cookie to crunch, ain't it, Garry," Trott spat.

"What?" said Garion, fragile. "No— _nooo,_ hah, no he isn't. No, he isn't."

"I can tell you from extremely firsthand experience, yeah, he is," said Panda.

"But—but—" Garion sputtered.

"Aw, now he's fuckin' _crying,"_ said Jess.

"No I'm not!" Garion cried, his voice cracking.

"Looks like you're just as stuck as the rest of us," said Trott. "What a shame."

"Kirin's not dead! I-I-I mean, who even _is_ this guy? Who is he, how do we know he isn't just—just lying? He never did say how they got him, he never did answer!"

"Jesus," Panda muttered under his breath. "Fine, you won't believe it, but a killer robot ambushed me, snapped my neck, shot out my one good eye, and left me for dead, and then YogLabs Medical came and picked me up."

"Yeah, sounds about right," said Trott.

"Lucky it didn't just blow his head off," said Jess.

"You're lying," Garion said, and sniffled. "All the L41's were destroyed."

"Well this one un-destroyed himself," said Panda, miffed that his grand revelations had received such a lackluster reception.

"Wait wait wait," said Jess. "The big fuckoff robot with the glowing red eyes and the fuckin' laser hands?"

"That'd be the one," said Panda.

"Somebody _destroyed_ one of them?"

Panda opened his mouth. He shut it again, blinking.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, actually. Me and a few friends—well, okay, two friends who did most of the heavy lifting and the rest of us playing death tag—we zapped about . . . I dunno, six of them? They were like, drones or something that the original one made. We _thought_ we'd got the original one, but . . . guess not."

Zylus had tried, he reminded himself. Zylus _had_ tried. He'd only been shanghaied afterwards, unless he'd been lying about that, too.

Panda was struck by a sudden and incongruous pain. He'd missed the meeting. Odds were it hadn't been real, odds were the phone call was faked somehow and was just part of the trap, odds were Zylus was still and always had been dead, but now he'd never know. . . .

"When you say _zapped,"_ Jess said keenly.

"Zapped," said Panda. "With like, a hundred thousand volts or something. The one friend's got some sort of electrical Powers, I dunno."

 _"Rythian?"_ Jess said.

"Wh—yes!" Panda cried, shocked out of his ennui. "You know Rythian?"

 _"Yeah_ I know Rythian, he was one of our regulars!"

"I know Rythian, too!" Garion chimed in. "I designed a suit for him, he was really really nice—"

"He's still _alive?_ _"_ Jess said, talking over him. "Fuckin' hell, I thought he got his bloody _head_ blown off!"

"No, he's—"

Not fine. Not okay. Maybe not even alive anymore.

"He survived," Panda finished lamely. Whatever warmth he'd gotten from the conversation was fading rapidly. Zylus was still dead. Rythian was probably dead. If Nilesy wasn't dead, he probably wished he was. Lalna, left alone and totally defenseless, was almost certainly in pieces by now.

Maybe it was for the best that Panda was going to be stuck down here forever.

"Hey, okay, but I think you guys are missing the point, here," Garion said, pouting.

"Sure, yeah, why don't you tell all us dumb mutants what the fuckin' _point_ is," Trott said. "There's no fuckin' _point,_ Garry, fuck off."

"No, _listen,_ I think you guys might really be in trouble!"

"Us? In _trouble?_ Since when?" Jess said.

"Since they're picking up prisoners again! Since the killer robot's back! Since they used the serum on him in, like, a really _experimental_ kind of way? Since _that?"_

"Heeeeeee might have a point," Panda said, uncomfortable.

"We been fucked since day one," Trott sneered. "Ain't a surprise to nobody if things're gettin' worse again."

"Was only a matter of time," said Jess. "Besides, up 'til just now, _I_ didn't even know the robots had _gone."_

"They were never gonna let us out, mate," said Trott. "The fuckin' robot got one of my best mates and this place got the other, and now it's got me too, so how many fucks do _I_ give? Nobody leaves here except in a body bag. You included."

"Er," said Panda. "I—I did."

There was a moment of silence.

"You did what?" said Jess.

"I left here," Panda said. "Not in a body bag. I got broken out."

"Like hell you did!" said Trott. "When?"

"Yeah, when?" said Garion.

"Shut up, Garry," Trott snapped.

Panda sighed and leaned up against the glass.

"It's a long story," he said.


	38. Chapter 37

"I look fucking stupid," Nilesy said, examining himself in the mirror.

"I dunno, it's come out better than I would've expected," Fox said generously.

"I look like fucking Strife," he said, lip curling.

Fox opened xyr mouth, then winced.

"A bit," xe admitted. "At least you don't look like the Fisherman anymore, which was the whole point. Honestly, _I_ think you look more like Lalna than anybody."

Nilesy took a step back and reassessed. He did, actually, look rather a lot like Lalna now, although the intensive bleaching had left his hair more platinum blond than Lalna's honey-gold. His eyebrows were still black, because Fox had been leery of accidentally blinding him, and the contrast was stark and unpleasant.

Who he really looked like, if he was honest with himself, was Isabel Peculier.

(Who, while he was being honest with himself, did bear a striking and disturbing resemblance to Strife. He would have preferred to be extremely dishonest with himself on that count.)

"Could be worse," Nilesy said, turning away from the mirror. Having spent his whole life looking like one of Liam's parents, he'd almost gotten used to it. Now that he was confronted with looking like the other, the old sickness had returned, the old dysphoria. No matter how far he ran, he could never get away from them. They were in every cell of his body, indelibly, inescapably.

He walked out of the bathroom, running a hand through his hair. Trell looked up from the TV and made an approving face.

"Seems to have come out well," he said. "Not having any allergic reactions or anything, are you?"

"Not to the dye," said Nilesy.

"Ah, now that sounds just cryptic enough to be a thinly veiled request for somebody to ask what's wrong," Trell said dryly. Nilesy went hot all over.

"It—no, sorry, it's fine," he said, tripping over his own tongue as he struggled to get the words out. His face was prickling. His scalp itched.

"All right," said Trell, shrugging. "So what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's fine, sorry, I just—it just came out a bit wrong, sorry. Just natural cynicism, ahahah."

"If you say so," Trell sighed. He turned back to the TV.

Fox came out of the bathroom and beelined for the kitchen, moving past Nilesy like he wasn't even there.

"I'm fuckin' starved," xe said, flinging open the fridge and sticking xyr whole torso in it. "Trell, I'm gonna eat you out of house and home for waking me up at seven o'clock in the fucking morning."

"You didn't _have_ to come," he said, without so much as turning his head.

"Oy oy, I'm the one doing the eating out, _you're_ the one who's supposed to come," said Fox.

"For fuck's sake!" Trell exclaimed, his voice cracking. "We've got company over, Fox!"

"If you're gonna give me a setup like that, I'd take it if my own nan was in the room," said Fox, shameless.

"Your nan's dead," said Trell.

"So much the better, 'cause if she heard me say some shit like that, she'd die of shame," said Fox. Xe came up with a pizza box and kicked the fridge door shut, then meandered over to Trell. Xe leaned an elbow on his head and flipped the box open.

"Is that the mushroom and olives?" Trell asked.

"Yep."

"Can I have a piece?"

"You've already had breakfast, this's mine."

"It's _my_ pizza!"

"My pizza now," said Fox. Xe handed him a slice anyway. "So when're Nano and everybody getting here? It's getting on."

"Dunno," said Trell. "I figured she'd call ahead."

While they talked, Nilesy sidled into the kitchen and leaned up against the counter, just trying to be as out of the way as possible. If he was very quiet, maybe they'd forget he was there. Granamyr, on the other hand, came sauntering right up to him, winding around his legs and purring.

"I'm not giving you anything," Nilesy told him quietly. "I know you've been fed, I was there."

Granamyr turned huge, adoring eyes on him and stood on his foot. Nilesy melted.

 _"God,_ who could say no to a face like that?" he said. He reached down and scratched the base of Granamyr's tail, then opened up the fridge and started a systematic search. "I'm going to spoil you fucking rotten. What's in here that you can eat? Maybe some ham, or something? Bet you'd love a bit of ham."

"Is Gran bothering you?" Trell asked from the other room. Nilesy's throat seized up.

"No," he managed.

"He's got some cat treats in the drawer by the stove," Trell said. "You can give him a couple, if you like."

"Right," said Nilesy. "Sure, thanks."

He found the drawer in question and the cat treats inside. His hands were shaking. He dug his fingernails into his palm, head bowed and eyes squeezed shut. He took a deep breath, and then another.

Nothing bad was going to happen. No one was going to hurt him. He was allowed to say no. He was allowed to walk away.

But _was he?_ Could he honestly walk out the door right now without anyone stopping him? Without anyone telling him how stupid he was being, how willfully ignorant of the consequences? He'd end up right back in prison and take everyone down with him. Could he _really_ say no to Trell, when his safety, his freedom, hung so precariously from his whims? Better not to risk it, better to stay small and quiet, stay out of the way, cause no trouble and voice no objections. As long as he did everything right, followed all the rules and picked up on all the little signals, nothing bad would happen to him. There would be no reason for anything bad to happen to him.

Apart from the fact that he existed, of course. Apart from the fact that he'd so unbalanced the karmic scales that nothing that happened to him could ever be called unjustified. It was only right that he should be hurt. He deserved it. He'd deserved all of it. They should have left him at Fair Isle to rot. They should have left him with Zylus.

He wondered how long it would be before Trell started twisting. He could feel the crowbar jimmying its way into his head, inch by inch—the covert glances, the reflexive smiles, the _perfect_ kindnesses. Nilesy had laid himself bare last night, showed off all the weakest points in the ramshackle reconstruction of his mind. It would make things easier in the long run if Trell knew where to start. It would make things quicker, less painful, whenever he decided to break Nilesy down. He hadn't taken Nilesy up on his less-than-subtle invitation, which meant he must have been playing a longer game, but it was only a matter of time.

Nilesy was almost looking forward to it. Nobody had touched him in weeks. That was how Zylus had started, too. He'd starved Nilesy out to the point where _any_ contact was desirable, _any_ price was worth it. Nilesy was practically already there again. He wondered if Fox would be in on it, or if that was another secret he'd have to keep. He wasn't sure which would be worse.

Granamyr rubbed up against his leg and meowed piteously. Nilesy shook himself, then tipped out a couple of the cat treats into his hand. Granamyr refused to eat them until they had been appropriately deposited on the floor. Nilesy crouched down near him and scratched him behind the ears.

"Don't blame you," he murmured. "I wouldn't trust me, either."

There was a buzzing noise, and some shuffling about.

"Is that Nano?" Fox asked.

"Yeah, hang on," said Trell. "Hello?"

There was a brief pause. Nilesy kept petting Granamyr, hidden behind the kitchen island.

"I . . . see," said Trell. "And you're both on the way, then, are you?"

Nilesy froze. _Both_ was not the right word. Something was wrong.

"All right," said Trell. "We'll see you in a bit. Yeah, bye."

"What's wrong?" Fox asked. "You look like you've just swallowed a spider."

"Apparently," Trell said, "Lalna and Nano are on the way."

"Wasn't Lalna—"

"Mm-hm."

"Didn't they try to _kill_ somebody when they woke up?"

"Yes, Fox, they absolutely did," said Trell, his voice febrile. "Which really makes me wonder why Panda and Lomadia aren't coming."

"Fucking hell, you don't think Lalna killed _them?"_

"From the sound of Nano's voice, you know, I'm really not sure."

"Shit. Shitting fuck. What should we do, should we—get to battle stations, or what?"

Trell sighed. The papasan chair creaked. Nilesy peeked out around the sink to see him hop into bed and lie down on his side.

"If it all goes to hell, you'll probably know in the next few minutes," said Trell.

"D'you know, this is the _worst_ bit of hanging out with you," Fox said, folding xyr arms.

"It may surprise you to know this, but I don't like it much either."

"No? Sure you don't get a kick out of being Mr. Omniscient?"

"I'm not fucking _omniscient,_ Fox, I'm epileptic."

"Yeah, _and_ you use it to know the fuckin' future, and then lord it over everybody."

"I don't _lord_ anything over anybody."

"Fine, you _viscount_ it over everybody."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's more backhanded and conceited than lording."

"Oh, fuck off."

Nilesy's fingernails bit into his palm. He held his breath. Intervening might get somebody hurt, but if he didn't step in, the person who got hurt was much less likely to be _him._ It was inevitable anyway.

"Yeah, what if I did?" Fox said.

"Then I supposed you'd be fucked off," said Trell.

Nilesy got to his feet. He couldn't breathe and his eyes wouldn't focus and his stomach was sick.

"Did Nano say when she'd be getting here?" he asked, although his voice trembled horribly.

"What?" said Fox, turning to look back at him. Astonishingly, both xe and Trell seemed perfectly at ease.

"Not in as many words, but she said she was _on her way,_ so presumably in like, half an hour," said Trell. His eyes narrowed, and he propped himself up on his elbow. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" Nilesy squeaked, his heart leaping into his throat. "Fine, no, I'm fine. Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt, ignore me, hahah."

Trell watched him for a moment more, brows pulled together, then subsided onto the bed again.

"Anyway, Fox, if you feel like leaving, I wouldn't blame you," Trell said. "What with the killer robot and everything."

Xe looked between him and Nilesy, frowning.

"I think I'll stay, thanks," xe said. "If anything goes horrifically wrong, I assume you'll gallantly swoop in to rescue me."

"Of course," Trell said superciliously. "What else am I here for?"

Fox made a face, then chucked him on the shoulder.

"Being pretty," xe said.

"Shucks," Trell said dryly. Fox leaned down and kissed his temple. Slowly, Nilesy subsided back onto the kitchen floor, whereupon Granamyr immediately climbed into his lap.

"I'm fucking stupid," Nilesy whispered to him.

 _Prrb,_ said Granamyr, butting his head against Nilesy's chin.

"Thanks," said Nilesy.

* * *

 

When Lalna and Nano arrived, Nilesy knew instantly that things were even worse than he'd suspected. The look of waxen, sleepless fear on Nano's face was enough. He met her eyes as she entered behind Lalna. He glanced at them and raised his eyebrows.

Nano shook her head, almost imperceptibly. Granamyr scrambled out of Nilesy's lap and ran off to the bathroom as Lalna posted up by the kitchen island.

"Hiya, Nilesy," they said, completely at ease.

"Hi, sib," Nilesy said carefully. He got to his feet and leaned against the counter. "Where're Lom and Panda?"

"Oh, they're gone," said Lalna. "Probably kidnapped night before last. Lalnable sent Panda a fake message from Zylus and there was this whole big deception to keep Nano from finding out."

"I would've told you last night," Nano said. Her voice shook. "I wanted to, but. . . ."

Her eyes flicked to Lalna.

"But I told her not to," said Lalna. "Because you needed your sleep and you definitely wouldn't've slept if you'd known. And then I had to disable her phone because she was going to call you anyway."

"Yes," Nano said faintly. "That."

Nilesy set his jaw. Part of him was panicking, horrified by these revelations, but there were obviously nearer dangers. He stuffed the fear into a box and stood on it.

"Lalna," he said slowly, "is it all right if Nano explains what happened?"

"Why? I know more about it than she does."

"Because I need to hear it from somebody whose emotions are working," he said.

"You _need_ to hear a muddled, subjective account?" Lalna said, frowning.

"Yep," Fox cut in.

"At least to start off with," said Trell, who was sitting up now.

Lalna looked between the two of them, and then back at Nilesy, and then at Nano.

"None of you make any sense," they said, but they folded their arms and shrugged and tipped their head toward Nano.

She took a deep breath, eyes closed.

"D'you want to sit down?" Trell asked. "The chair's free."

"I would—yes, thank you," Nano said, her voice shaking. She tottered to the papasan chair and lowered herself into it like she expected it to break.

"Take your time," Nilesy said.

Nano rubbed her face and swallowed. She leaned her elbows on her knees.

"All right," she said. "So after I dropped you off here. . . ."

Nilesy listened with growing apprehension. He wasn't sure whether to be more worried by Panda and Lomadia's evident capture or by Lalna's response to it—between the months of phone-tapping, the installation of the MALaR, and the intentional and _aggressive_ secret-keeping the night before, they were looking more dangerous every second. Nano kept glancing at them, but they didn't interrupt or seem at all concerned.

"So, that's where we are," Nano finished. "Lom and Panda are gone, and we don't know where. Or exactly when."

"If you were tapping their phones," Trell said to Lalna, "can you tell where they are now?"

"No," Lalna said, making a face. "They've both been turned off now. Lomadia was using hers to navigate to a pub in Oldham called _The Wonder,_ which also got mentioned in the fake message from Zylus. They never made it there, though. They stopped about sixty kilometers outside of Bristol for a couple of minutes, and then both phones stopped transmitting anything. I think Lalnable must have shut them both off. If you'd left the GPS in the car, I'd be able to tell you if it was still out there."

They shot a pointed look at Nano, but she had her head in her hands and didn't see it.

"Shocked you didn't put a tracker in that, too," Fox muttered.

"Look, everything I've done has been helpful," Lalna said, pouting. "If I _had_ put a tracker in the car, that would've been helpful, too. I don't know why everyone's so upset with me."

"That'd probably be on account of the violation of privacy," Trell said.

"But I never _looked_ at any of it until we needed it," Lalna said.

"Apart from my medical records, which you _stole_ and then _hid_ from me," Nano said.

Nilesy reached out very carefully and found the water in the pipes under the sink. He kept hold of it, ready to haul it to his aid at a moment's notice.

"I didn't know you wanted them," Lalna said. "I was only trying to help."

"All right, yeah, not to cut in on this little heart-to-processor," Fox said, "but speaking of _helping,_ what're we gonna _do?"_

"It'd be more accurate to say heart-to-software," Lalna said. "At this point we ought to split up, and half of us go to the old lab and the other half go to the pub."

"So which half goes where?" Trell asked.

"You and Nano and I should go to the lab, and Fox and Nilesy should go to the car."

"Seems like I'd be more useful at the lab," said Nilesy. He still had hold of the water in the pipes. "That's where things are most likely to go wrong, aren't they?"

 _"Yes,_ that's why _Trell's_ coming," Lalna said, rolling their eyes. "Plus, afterwards we're going straight on to YogLabs so I can install the thing, and I figured we might as well run a few simple tests while we're there."

"Sorry, a few simple _what?"_ said Trell, sitting up straighter.

"Tests," Lalna said. "I know it's all very bigger-picture but we might as well, since I'm not going to be any use until I've got my power situation under control. The implications of your Powers are honestly astounding, assuming they work the way I think they do. I'd be really interested in finding out if they work the way I think they do."

"And how d'you think they work, then?" Fox asked. Xyr shoulders were tight, eyes narrowed.

"I've got a few hypotheses," said Lalna. "The one I see working best is that it's a multiverse sort of thing. The density of universes has got to be pretty high, if you assume that every choice you make generates a new one. If that's the case, then what's _probably_ happening is that every time Trell skips back, he's actually skipping _over_ to an adjacent universe that's an hour behind. Of course that'd mean that in the original universe, he either dies or ceases to exist, which, probability-wise, means we'd have to be pretty lucky to have him here now. The _other_ option is that he's generating a new universe and destroying the old one—conservation of mass and energy and everything—which would be _super_ cool, and also wouldn't mean that every time he skips back there's a fifty percent chance we get left in the universe without him. At any rate, I've come up with a few measurable quantities we should be able to detect, which isn't something we've had for multiverses before, and the tests should be pretty simple—"

"All right, but _why?"_ Nano interrupted. "What purpose could it possibly serve?"

 _"Purpose?"_ said Lalna. "To know. To understand. To uncover _fundamental truths_ about the workings of reality!"

"What _practical_ purpose?" Nano pressed.

Lalna's eyes were reddening, their fists clenching at their sides. Nilesy started pulling water out of the drain, filling the sink as silently as he could.

 _"Every_ practical purpose," Lalna snapped. "Things aren't useful until we understand them!"

Trell slammed his fist down on the nightstand. _"I_ am _not_ a _thing!"_ he roared.

Lalna pulled up short, blinking. Their eyes slowly shaded back to blue, and then purple. They hung their head, their face drawn.

"No," they said softly. "No, you're not. Sorry. I believe experimentation wouldn't be productive at this time. Excuse me."

They turned abruptly and walked out of the flat.

"Lal—" Nano said, getting to her feet.

"I'll go," said Nilesy. He dropped his hold on the water and hurried after Lalna, leaving Nano, Fox, and Trell behind. Lalna was already halfway down the corridor, and he had to run to catch up with them. His heart was hammering in his ears. If Lalna decided to hurt him out here, there would be nothing he could do about it, no water near enough to save him. He just had to bank on them not turning violent.

And even if they did, at least it would only be him getting hurt.

"Lalna!" he said. "Hang on, hold on a second, where're you off to? What was all that about?"

They stopped, only half-turning to face him. Their eyes were nearly lightless.

"I misspoke," they said, not looking at him. "I require some alone-time. I'm very sorry."

"Those last bits I believe," he said. "The first bit, I don't. Since when do you misspeak?"

They hesitated. Their eyes flickered.

"Right after all the stuff in Adel," they said quietly, "I made some minor alterations to my morality database to keep myself from being compelled to incriminate us. And so that I wouldn't feel so guilty."

"All right, fair enough," Nilesy said warily. Lalna shrugged, keeping their eyes averted.

"I'm starting to think that maybe the alterations weren't as minor as I intended," they said.

"Okay," Nilesy said. "What all did you change?"

"It wouldn't make sense to you," they said, turning away.

"Could you put it back?" he asked. "Like it was before? You've got to have a backup somewhere, I mean—"

"No," said Lalna.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," they said darkly. They started off again, and Nilesy tagged along. "It's better this way. It's simpler. It's _easier."_

"For you," Nilesy allowed. "Seems to be making things a bit difficult for the rest of us. No, honestly, where are you going?"

"Somewhere else," said Lalna. "Leave me alone."

Nilesy raised his hands in surrender and stopped walking. Lalna continued on without him, down the stairs and away. Nilesy heaved a long sigh and rubbed his face.

 _They do take after Dad, don't they,_ Vee purred.

"Shut up and fuck off," Nilesy muttered, his lip curling.

_I'm only saying it because Liam won't._

Nilesy did not dignify this with a response. Instead, he turned and headed back towards Trell's flat.

 _You should've seen his work at Fair Isle,_ Vee went on anyway. _Absolutely hideous. We made a fantastic team, without you._

"Fuck _off,"_ Nilesy said.

 _Someday soon you're going to die,_ Vee sang. _And nobody's going to miss you._

 _For God's sake_ _,_ Liam said, exasperated. _Either come up with new material or be_ _quiet._

Nilesy stopped in his tracks, blinking. There was, if not _silence_ in his head, then at least an absence of conversation.

"Thanks?" he said, baffled.

Nobody answered him, so he just went back inside.

"Are you okay?" Nano asked immediately. She rushed over to him and nearly grabbed his arms, but stopped short. "Are _they_ okay?"

"I'm—yes, nobody's hurt, we're all okay," Nilesy said. "Apparently they've fucked about with their morality database and it's gotten out of hand."

"Oh, brilliant," said Trell. "I said, about the Laws of Robotics, didn't I?"

"Not the time, Trell," Fox said.

"Did they say _when_ they'd done this?" Nano asked.

"Apparently, right after the thing with the Board," said Nilesy. Nano's eyes widened and she leaned back.

"That long?" she said faintly.

"Like I said, it's gotten out of hand," said Nilesy. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say it's because they've had to stop pretending to be human."

Nano rubbed her forehead, taking deep breaths.

"It would explain some things," she said. She looked up at him. "Where've they gone?"

"They didn't say, and I didn't feel like pressing the issue," said Nilesy.

 _Coward,_ Vee scoffed. Nilesy clenched his fist.

"They shouldn't be alone," Nano said. "Somebody—no, at least _two_ somebodies should go after them."

"What, and get blasted by lasers?" said Trell.

"That—is not out of the question, no," said Nano, fragile.

Trell sighed and rolled his eyes and got to his feet.

"So who's coming with me to stalk the killer robot?" he said.

"It should be either Nilesy or me," Nano said. "Just for the sake of . . . having somebody about who's slightly less likely to get shot."

"I'll go," said Nilesy. "You've been stuck with them all night."

"Yeah, so Nano and me can go find the car while you boys get yourselves shot at," said Fox.

"Oh, God," said Nano. She sounded like she was about to start crying.

"Unless you'd rather go with Trell," Nilesy said. "I'm fine either way."

"It's just—" Nano said. She looked to the far corner of the room, her face twisted up with pain. "If it's a choice between maybe getting shot and maybe finding my wife's body, I'm—I'd rather take the first, if at all possible."

"Done," Nilesy said. "I'll go with Fox."

"I'm sorry," Nano said. "I'm sorry, I know you loved Panda and Lomadia too, I know it's got to be terrifying for you, too—"

"Present tense," Nilesy said, wounded.

"What?"

"I _love_ them, present tense," he said.

Nano opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"You . . . seem to have kept it pretty well secret from them," she said.

"Yeah," he said, "that'd be intentional." He turned to Fox. "Shall we?"

"Thank God," said Fox, already heading for the door. "Any more fuckin' _feelings_ and I was gonna barf."

"You're such a little shit," said Trell, shaking his head.

Fox grinned at him. "Better than being a little bitch," xe said. "You'd better stop complimenting me like that, otherwise I might get sniffly when you get your fat head blown off."

"Fuck off, Fox," said Trell. Xe blew him a kiss. He flipped xem off.

Fox headed out the door, and Nilesy followed after xem with a helpless shrug.

"Good luck," he said to Nano. "I'll let you know what we find."

"Thanks," said Nano. "Same to you."

He saluted, then hurried after Fox. Xe walked quickly, twirling xyr keys around xyr finger.

"Here," xe said, foisting xyr phone onto him. "You're gonna be navigator. Know where we're going?"

"Roughly," said Nilesy.

"Perfect," said Fox, grinning again. "I like it rough."

"This is going to be a long car ride," he sighed.


	39. Chapter 38

It was the noise that woke her.

Lomadia put her hands over her ears before her eyes were even open, trying to block out the awful droning roar. There was something pressed over her mouth and nose, a weird slippery plastic sort of a thing, too tight against her skin, itchy elastic across the back of her head. There was a smooth floor underneath her. It was freezing cold, so cold it made her fingers ache. Her brain was all foggy, her body sore and weak.

At first, she didn't try to sit up, just unfolded her wings and opened her eyes. She was inside some sort of glass box, in a cramped dark room that was cluttered with stuff. There were crates and boxes, lashed down with thick straps. The whole world jostled, and a riot of clinking and rattling went off. Lomadia winced, pressing her hands tighter over her ears, but it didn't help. She couldn't think. The noise was too much, filling up her head. She couldn't breathe properly, and the thing on her face was all wrong, pressing all wrong, the elastic strap was made of nettles, her clothes were crusty and sticky and bad, the texture of _everything_ was bad, that horrible noise just wouldn't _stop—_

Lomadia curled up as small as she could go. She folded her wings in tight around her, rested her forehead on her knees and rocked back and forth. The world hit another bump and she whimpered. It was too much—noise, texture, soreness, strangeness—and there was nothing she could do, nowhere she could go. She pushed the awful mask off of her face, scraping it against her knee until it went up over the top of her head, although she had to let go of her ears for one horrible moment so the elastic would go over them.

And then she couldn't breathe.

Panic gripped her in its talons, piercing her lungs and heart. Claws screeched on hard plastic. Wings buffeted the walls, bruising. Her vision blurred. Cotton filled her ears. She thrashed wildly, terrified, suffocating. Her limbs were already going weak. The walls wouldn't budge. She couldn't breathe. She collapsed to the floor. She beat uselessly against the walls. The room was getting dim. The strength of her limbs gave out. She lay on the floor, gasping, as darkness filled her vision like rising water.

The next thing she knew, someone was touching her face. Something pressed into her ear. She tried to move away, but she was too weak. She managed to open her eyes, but the only things she could make out were two red lights. Somebody patted her face. Something stuck her in the shoulder.

The darkness came up again, swifter, warmer. This time, she did not wake for a long time.

* * *

 

When Lomadia did come to consciousness, the roar was quieter, muffled. She reached up and touched her ears, finding a pair of soft foam plugs stuck in them. They were uncomfortable, but less uncomfortable than the loud roaring. The plastic mask was back on her face, and it was still horrible, so she pulled it off again.

Instantly, the air became unbreathable, thick as water. Lomadia screamed in frustration, kicking at the walls of her prison, flapping her wings uselessly in the confined space. There was a green bottle in there with her, attached to the mask, and she kept tripping on it in her frantic attempts to get free.

Light burst down over her, and she redoubled her efforts. Someone approached the tank, dressed in white and gray. Lomadia's vision was already blurring, her limbs already going weak again. The person came right up to the tank and touchedthe side of it. There was a click and a whirr.

Cold air burst down over her, and she gasped in a breath. Strength flooded back through her body, and she slammed herself against the plastic walls. The person watched her until she wore herself out and fell back to catch her breath.There was something awfully familiar about them, something of broken glass and needles.

They had bright, glowing red eyes, made up of hundreds of tiny lighted dots. They had a smooth, round face, completely without scars or blemishes, like a baby's. Their hair was long and thick, tied loosely at the nape of their neck. They were dressed in a black turtleneck, gray trousers, a white lab coat. They watched her with their head to one side, like Lalna would do.

They looked, in fact, a lot like Lalna.

"Did you know," they said, "that airplane cargo holds are pressurized?"

Their voice was all wrong. It didn't come out of their mouth, even though their mouth moved. It wasn't as muffled by the earplugs as it should have been. There was a weird fuzziness to it, a fakeness, like they were playing a recording of a voice and mouthing along. In that way, they sounded exactly like Lalna, even if the timber and pitch and tone of their voice were all different.

_"_ _I_ didn't," they went on. "It makes perfect sense, of course, when you think about pounds per square inch and curved versus flat surfaces, but I simply never thought to check. It was somewhat . . . disappointing, honestly. I was going to cut air holes in this box, but, ahah, I thought it would be more fun without them, so I just put the fan in instead. I flushed it with carbon dioxide from—but you're probably not interested in all that. Needless to say, we wanted you to keep the mask _on,_ but we also didn't want you to suffocate completely, which is why I'm here. Again."

"Where's Panda?" Lomadia demanded. Her voice was all weak and shaky, and it sounded weird through the earplugs.

"Ah-ah, introductions first," the person said. "We've never formally met before. I'm Lalnable. Lalna's brother? You may remember me from the time you and your friends destroyed everything I built and worked for."

"I don't care. Where's _Panda?"_

"He's dead," said Lalnable.

"No he isn't," Lomadia said, even as a fist of dread struck her in the stomach.

Lalnable shrugged. "Believe whatever makes you happiest," he said. "It won't matter in the long run. Please put your mask back on, would you?"

Lomadia picked up the green bottle and bashed it against the wall. It made a deafening _thunk_ when it hit the plastic and bounced off with such force that it ripped out of her hands and clanged away. Lalnable didn't so much as blink.

"That's really not safe," he said. "If you managed to make a spark, you could blow yourself up."

"Blow a hole in your stupid tank," Lomadia said, kicking at the wall.

"Yes," he allowed, "but it is a _small_ tank and you would be too dead to take advantage of said hole. We'd really prefer to keep you not-dead, if at all possible."

Lomadia stopped kicking the wall. "What for?" she demanded.

He smiled at her.

"I'll give you three guesses," he said.

"I'm not playing your stupid guessing game."

"No," Lalnable said, smiling like she'd told a joke, "that's not it."

"I'm going to tear your stupid head off! I'm going to rip you up into little pieces!"

"All right," he said amiably. Lomadia blinked, thrown for a loop.

"What?" she said.

"Lomadia," he said. "May I call you Lomadia?"

"That's my name, what else would you call me?"

"I could use Mrs. Sounds, if you'd prefer," he said. "I wouldn't want to be rude."

"You stuffed me in a box and took all the air out! You lied to me about Panda being dead!"

"First of all, that depends on your definition of _air,"_ said Lalnable, "and second of all, I really haven't. If you want rudeness, you'll have to wait until Five's ready to see you. She's still a bit woozy."

"I can be rude at you right now."

"Very true," said Lalnable. He seemed happy about it. "The point is, Lomadia, that if you want to tear me up into little pieces, I don't particularly mind. If you want to be rude to me, I don't much mind that either."

"That's stupid. You're stupid."

"And there's the rudeness, as promised!" he said. "Do put your mask back on."

"No."

He shrugged and touched the tank again. This time, Lomadia could see that he was flipping a switch. The whirring stopped and the air went still. She looked up to see a fan in the roof of the tank, spinning down, with closed metal shutters behind it.

"You may hate me as much as you like," Lalnable said, "and you may threaten whatever you think is deserved, because—and I feel I must point this out to you, because you don't seem to have grasped it yet—you are absolutely powerless to act upon any of it."

She kicked the glass again. He waggled his eyebrows.

"Only five more hours to go before we land," he said. "Even if you don't put the mask back on, you won't burn through all of your breathable air in that time, although you might pass out again if you keep struggling. I don't want to leave you with any misgivings, I would of course come back and let the air in, but it would still be unpleasant for you. There will be _more_ than enough unpleasantness later, so . . . try to go easy on yourself, hm?"

"Nano's going to kill you," Lomadia snarled, raking her claws across the plastic. "She's going to find you and come kill you."

"I'll see you in four hours," Lalnable said, as though she hadn't said anything at all. He patted the wall of the tank. "Take care, and let us know if you need anything. We _are_ watching, hahah."

"She's going to burn your stupid ugly head off!" Lomadia cried, as Lalnable turned and ambled away. She slammed against the glass, but he didn't react at all. "She's going to come rescue me!"

He ducked out through a little door, letting in a burst of light, and then he was gone. The door closed, leaving Lomadia blinking afterimages out of her eyes. She kicked at the walls. She kicked at the fan, although it was difficult because of the angle. She scratched at the walls.

Eventually, she sat down, and folded her wings around her, and took a nap.

It was poor, unsettled sleep, disturbed by jolts and distant noises. At one point she thought she heard screaming, filtered dim through the earplugs and the tank and the outer walls. It went on for a long time, maybe hours. She wasn't sure if she had dreamed it or not. When she did dip into sleep, she could still hear it, like an echo, like a phantom pain. Her dreams were filled with red light.

She woke up again when the door opened and Lalnable came back in. The tank was stuffy, but not so bad that she couldn't breathe. She glared at him as he approached, blinking the sleep from her eyes. He was carrying a gun.

"What?" she demanded.

"Just wanted to let you know we're making our final approach," he said. He flipped the switch on the tank, and cooler air flooded in again as the shutters opened and the fan started to spin. "Unfortunately, this _does_ mean I'll have to put you under again."

"Put me under what?" She kept a close eye on the gun. He was holding it loosely, down by his side, like he wasn't expecting to use it.

"Anesthesia," he said.

He leapt into the air without warning and landed on the tank with such a loud _thunk_ that it made Lomadia's ears pop. She yelped and scrambled back on instinct. Lalnable closed one eye and pointed the gun through the fan. There was a _paff_ and something stung Lomadia in the shoulder. She swatted at it. A dart fell onto the floor.

"Nailed it," Lalnable said, grinning.

Lomadia went for him, leaping up to claw at the fan with her talons. She ripped it out, metal and plastic squealing in pain. Lalnable hopped backwards, laughing. She tried to stick her leg through the hole to rip into him, but fell to the floor before she could. Again she launched herself up, clawing at Lalnable with one foot while the other grappled to the edge of the hole, her wings beating frantically as she tried to stay in place. Lalnable laughed wildly, standing just out of her reach.

Her foot slipped and she fell. He caught her by the ankle, lightning fast. She thrashed, but her claws couldn't reach him and her other foot wouldn't fit through the hole. Her wings bruised against the tank walls. Blood rushed to her head. Her vision was blurring, her brain filling up with fog.

"Easy does it!" Lalnable said, his voice skipping and hitching. Lomadia snarled incoherently. Her muscles were turning to water. Her eyelids were getting heavy.

She slipped out of consciousness before she knew it, clawing at Lalnable until the very last.

* * *

 

At some point, the noise had stopped.

Lomadia's memories of the past several hours were patchy at best. She remembered a lot of jostling, and heat, and more roaring engines, and then a sort of muffled quietude. She found herself now still in her box, but without the green bottle and mask. Her earplugs were gone. The hole where she'd torn out the fan was still there, rough at the edges. There was an ever-present creaking, like the way skyscrapers moaned in the high wind. The room outside her box was smallish, circular, with a domed ceiling and one heavy door with a round wheel in the middle of it. The walls and floors were dark green, the lights bright and harsh. There were no windows.

She was alone.

Because things weren't urgent, the first thing she did was sit down and really properly preen her wings. She'd dislodged an awful lot of feathers, and there was blood in them that needed cleaning out. She stripped off her blood-crusted clothes as well, because the texture was driving her crazy. Her brain was still fuzzy, mushy from the drugs, so she didn't try thinking beyond what was necessary to get properly cleaned.

By the time she was done combing the blood and grit out of her wings, scratching the grime off her skin with her fingernails, and picking the bits of plastic out of her foot scales, her thoughts were much clearer. She was hungry, and at some point she would need new clothes. Escape would be good, but it should wait until after food and clothes, unless an opportunity presented itself.

However, since there was no food and no change of clothes in the box with her, she started out by sticking her arm up through the hole where the fan had been, seeing how far she could reach. When that didn't get her anywhere, she started yanking on the plastic as hard as she could, trying to break it with her weight. When that didn't do anything either, she stuffed her old clothes out the hole and threw them as far as she could, because the smell was bothering her.

Lomadia sat down on the floor and crossed her legs, fluffing up her wings. She wondered what Nano would have done, in her position. Maybe there was nothing that could _be_ done—after all, when Lomadia had found Nano under Strife Solutions, she'd been stuck in a box, too. Maybe plastic boxes just made really good traps. If Nano couldn't figure a way out of them, and brute strength couldn't crack them, there was little chance of Lomadia being able to escape on her own.

Nano would be coming—of this she was certain. It was just a matter of when. Lomadia only had to survive until Nano got there. If she managed to escape on her own and rip Lalnable's stupid head off on her way out, that was just bonus.

Distantly, there was a sound of footsteps. Lomadia sat up straighter and fanned out her wings, using them to help catch the sound. The footsteps were light and quick, bipedal, somebody short. As they approached, she could pick up other noises, too; quiet _plinks_ and _clings_ as of fingertips tapping on hollow pipes.

At long last, the heavy door opened with a squeal of hinges that made Lomadia grind her teeth. Specimen Five came in and closed the door behind her. The hair on the shaved side of her head had grown out since she'd sent the video to Lalna. She was dressed in all black, a high-collared shirt and loose-fitting trousers, with a single bright green hair clip pinning her fringe behind her ear. She lined herself up with the door before turning and walking up to Lomadia's box. She stopped only a couple of feet away, folding her arms and smirking. She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, her brows pulling together.

"Are you _naked?"_ she demanded.

"Yeah," said Lomadia. "How can you tell that, if you're blind?"

"Why are you naked?" Five asked, completely ignoring her question. Her eyes _were_ pretty thoroughly filmed over, milky white and with only the faintest indication of pupils. Lomadia wasn't sure what blind eyes were supposed to look like, if they were supposed to look like anything, but Five's eyes _looked_ blind.

"Because my clothes were gross," Lomadia said. "Are you actually blind, or are you just pretending?"

"Are you _actually_ stupid?" Five snapped. "No, you haven't got to answer, I know you are. Only an idiot would take off their oxygen mask _twice._ Don't know why we even bothered giving you it."

"If you wanted me to be able to breathe, you should've left all the air in the box."

"Where's the fun in that?" Five asked, cocking a hip out to the side and putting all her weight on one leg.

"It wasn't _fun,"_ Lomadia said. "It was awful."

"Fun for _us,_ you idiot," Five said, rolling her eyes. "It's hilarious, watching you thrash about like a wild animal. Then again, I guess you _are_ a wild animal, so it's not surprising."

Lomadia bristled. "I'll rip your guts out," she said.

Five giggled. _"Very_ civilized of you," she said.

"You took Rythian's insides out," Lomadia retorted.

"Yeah, _surgically,"_ Five said. "You know, like humans do? I guess you wouldn't."

"I'll surgically rip your ugly little head off."

"My little head is fucking _gorgeous,"_ Five snapped, taking a threatening step towards Lomadia's tank.

"No it's not," said Lomadia. "It's ugly and gross like the rest of you. You look like you got run over. You look like roadkill."

"You'll _be_ roadkill when I'm done with you!" she snarled.

Lomadia leapt to her feet and spread her wings as far as they would go. Five stiffened. She was very short, even shorter than Nano.

"Okay," said Lomadia, flexing her talons. "So come get me."

Five glared up at her for a moment, fists and jaw clenched, before turning away and waving a hand.

"There you go being stupid again," she said lightly. "As if I'm going to let you out. Not everybody's as dumb as you, sweetheart."

Lomadia threw herself against the glass. There was a loud _thunk_ and Five startled.

"Don't call me that," Lomadia ordered, her voice dropping way too low.

"Ooh, hit a nerve, did I?" Five said, grinning. "Is it 'cause that's what your pretty little wife calls you? Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you're never gonna see _her_ again."

Lomadia cleared her throat to get her voice back into its proper range.

"Of course I am," she said. "She's going to come rescue me and put _you_ in a box instead. You can't make me think she's not coming, because I know she is."

"No, it—I'm gonna _kill_ her, stupid," Five said. "You're never going to see her again because I'm going to _kill_ her."

"No you're not."

"Yeah, actually, I am."

"You're not," said Lomadia.

"I am, too! And there's not a fucking thing _you_ can do about it!"

"I haven't got to do anything about it," said Lomadia. "Nano and Lalna and Nilesy and Panda will do stuff about it."

_"First_ off, Panda? He's dead," said Five. "Lalnable blew his head off. Secondly, I called and checked in on your little water boy. They poked the front of his brain out with an icepick, so _he's_ not gonna be doing anything but basket-weaving for the rest of his life. Oh, and third? Lalna's going to keel over dead _long_ before they get anywhere near us. I made sure they would."

"You tried to kill them and it didn't work because they're smarter than you," Lomadia said. Five was obviously lying about the other stuff, so it wasn't worth commenting on.

"I wasn't _trying_ to kill them," Five said.

"Yes you were," said Lomadia.

"I was _not!_ If I'd been trying to kill them, they'd be dead!"

_"They_ said you tried to kill them, and it's their brains, so they'd know."

"They don't fucking know _me!_ I was _trying_ to run down their battery so they'd die a slow and miserable death while Nano watched, and that's what I fucking _did!"_

"So you were trying to kill them, just a bit slower," said Lomadia.

"How are you alive?" Five demanded. "How do you have the _brainpower_ to fucking breathe? How have you not swallowed your own fucking tongue yet?"

"You're angry because I'm right," said Lomadia, smiling to herself, fluffing up her wings in satisfaction. "Lalna's smarter than you."

"I'm gonna burn your stupid eyes out while your stupid wife watches," Five hissed. She turned on her heel and stalked to the far end of the room. She put up her hands and touched the wall, feeling around.

"The door's a bit to your right," Lomadia called.

Five found her way to it, stormed out, and slammed it behind her.

Lomadia heard her start crying in the corridor.

A gross, slimy sensation filled up Lomadia's stomach. She sat back down and folded her wings around her. She started rocking back and forth, slowly, rhythmically, trying to ease the discomfort.

Maybe calling Five ugly and stupid had been going a bit too far. Sure, she was horrible and mean and planning to kill Nano, but those were all things she could stop if she felt like it. It wasn't her fault she was ugly, or her fault that she was blind. And yes, she had made fun of Lomadia for things _she_ couldn't help, like being half owl, but that went hand-in-hand with the _horrible and mean_ thing. Just because Five was being awful didn't mean Lomadia had to do it back at her.

Ripping off heads was all fair and good, and richly deserved in this case. Making people cry was just mean. It served no purpose. It didn't help anybody.

Plus, she _had_ told Nano that she would at least try and love any little things that came out of her (although now that she'd met Five, she was starting to understand why Nano hadn't). It was possible that Five was only the way she was because she was scared, or hurt. Lomadia well understood the need to lash out when in fear and pain.

Maybe next time she'd try being less mean.


	40. Chapter 39

_05:13:12:19.3027_

Lalna was running out of time.

The repeated attempted reboots had stolen a day from them, and all the anger and tactical response before and after had taken another. Dealing with Nano, explaining to Nilesy, trying to act human in front of Trell and Fox—all that had taken a third. Lalna was left with no choice: if they were to survive long enough to save themself, they had to do it alone. The interpersonal software was completely shut down. Everything they could spare was suspended or turned off. They'd even cut power to their Emotional Indicator Screens, for the two watts it would save them.

They likewise had no choice but to go to the old lab. Even if it was a trap, it was their only option.

They made good time from Trell's apartment to the nearest bus station, then spent five minutes waiting in something close to sleep mode. When the bus arrived, they tapped their ID face-down against the fare reader while they hacked it, so it would appear they had the proper bus pass. They moved to the back of the bus and settled into a low-power mode again.

It took two more buses to get close to the old lab, and they had to go the last half mile on foot. When they got within range, they started probing the security systems. The lab had been used recently, but nothing appeared to be active at the moment. They risked looking a little closer, and nothing leapt into their systems to kill them. The front door had not been opened in two days. The lockdown protocol was not enabled.

Externally, the building seemed unchanged. The regular shutters were closed, but the steel security ones had not been deployed. Lalna approached on the opposite side of the street and loitered for three minutes, ensuring any irregularities had sufficient time to present themselves. When none did, they crossed the street and stepped into the front portico. The keypad was disabled.

_5:10:27:10.4801_

Lalna turned the door handle and pushed it open. Cautiously, they stepped inside.

The place was a wreck.

Stuffing from the couch was strewn all over the floor like melting snow, spilling from gashes in the couch and chairs. The kitchen table was in splinters. The refrigerator was lying flat on its face, the microwave bashed to bits next to it. Broken glass littered the floor from the TV, the light fixtures, the dishes. Everything was scarred with acid damage—the rugs had been burned clean through in places. The walls were full of holes, the paint viciously scratched. There were rusty brown stains spattered about the place, possibly blood. Lalna took a few careful steps, alert for any sign of danger, but nothing moved, nothing was triggered. They picked their way through the mess and found the door to the basement labs hanging off one hinge.

Downstairs, things were just as bad. Most of the doors had been ripped off or bashed in. Everything that could be broken had been. Wires and glass and splinters littered every square inch of floor. Nothing was untouched, nothing was spared.

They found the old microscopy room, and the hidden room at the back of it. There were fingernail marks on the walls, especially by the door. They had the right spread to be Rythian's.

Then there was the chemistry lab, the overturned gurney with its spilled mass of lead weights, the rubber floors and the glittering field of broken green glass. All the refrigerators and incubators had been overturned here, too, exposing their unguarded backs. There were flies buzzing in and out from underneath one incubator. Lalna pushed it over onto its side with one foot.

In amongst the broken glass, four pinkish, fleshy things lay dead and rotting. They were sinewy, covered in white knobbles, each about the size of a ping-pong ball. From the state of decay, they'd been lying on the floor like this for a couple of days.

_05:10:09:30.2492_

There would have been little point in throwing a tantrum. Everything that could be hurled about and smashed and beaten in had already been through it. There was nothing left to break. Besides, they were extremely short on time, and even shorter on plans.

Lalna crouched down and picked up one of the voltaic nodes. They turned it over in their hand. It was odd to think that they were holding a piece of Rythian. They examined the incisions that had cut the organ out—very neat, very precise, almost certainly Lalnable's work. They put it down again and examined the others, finding them to be as near to identical as possible, given the entropy of decay.

Odds were good that they were all, in fact, the _same_ voltaic node, removed and regrown and removed again. That was heartening—it meant that Rythian might not be irreparably damaged, even now. It also meant he could survive, at least for a short time, without the voltaic node, which was interesting. On the other hand, the repeated surgeries over a short time frame might have been detrimental in some way, as might extensive use of the serum. It had likely been psychologically damaging, if nothing else.

Lalna got up and moved away, mostly because the flies were bothering them. They thought for a few minutes, deciding if the plan forming in their head was a good or bad one.

_05:10:02:19.3416_

They decided it was good enough.

The call took nearly a minute to connect, but it was answered six milliseconds after it did.

 _"Hello,"_ Lalnable said. He sounded pleased.

"Were you expecting me to call?" Lalna asked.

 _"I was hoping,"_ Lalnable said.

"Why even take the voltaic node, if you were just going to use it to bait me and then destroy it? You could have made a fake, and I wouldn't have known the difference."

 _"Mostly? I just wanted to see what would happen,"_ said Lalnable. In the metadata, Lalna saw a green thread of delight.

"And what did happen?" Lalna asked. They sent out a few feelers, a few pings. Lalnable let them connect and sent back a few of his own. The conversation sped up considerably.

 _"Ah, you'll have to wait for the publication to see the results,"_ he said. _"Unless you'd like to become a coauthor?"_

Lalna pulled closer. The physical world was melting away, abandoned in pursuit of the connection. Sensors were irrelevant when packages of emotion and expression were swimming right into their head, and they could send their own right back.

"No," they said, and they were angry, and Lalnable knew this.

 _"The offer is open,"_ he said, and he was amused, and Lalna knew this. The digital fuzz faded from his voice. "I imagine you must have done some experimentation of your own. What did you find?"

"You'll have to wait for the publication," said Lalna.

"It's a shame you refuse to collaborate," Lalnable said. "It would make the work go faster."

The current work was going very fast indeed, each phrase taking only millionths of a second to transmit, and parse, and understand. The two of them had probably blacked out dozens of cell towers to get the necessary bandwidth. Swarms of data raced back and forth between them, all the subtleties of emotion and thought communicated directly and unambiguously. There was no guesswork, no reliance on the interpersonal software, no fear of misinterpretation. For the first time in their life, Lalna found themself able to speak freely, without having to spend half their brainpower navigating the insane game of human social cues.

For the first time in their life, Lalna was having a _conversation._

"We've never talked before," they said.

"No," said Lalnable, "We haven't."

He was excited by this, but felt no affection for Lalna. Lalna, likewise, was enthused and _relieved_ and still incredibly wary. They did not have to say so. Lalnable could tell.

"I've noticed you're not trying to hack me," Lalna said.

"I appreciate you returning the courtesy."

 _"Is_ it a courtesy?" they asked. "You've not been particularly courteous so far."

"It hasn't always been up to me," said Lalnable.

"You're trying to kill me."

"Yes, but there's no need to be _rude_ about it." He indicated amusement. "I respect you, Lalna. I _am_ going to kill you, but I respect you."

"What about Five? Does she respect me?"

"She's afraid of you, which is nearly the same thing."

Lalna thought for a few microseconds. It was a reasonable amount of time, under the circumstances.

"She's the mastermind," they said. "You're still just following orders. All of this has been her idea, which is why you never tried to kill any of us before."

"She and I had the same idea. We _are_ partners."

"She lets you believe you're her partner," they allowed.

"If you're making an attempt to turn me against her, it's very clumsy," said Lalnable, who was annoyed, but not much. "She does give me orders, and I don't mind. There's something immensely comforting about being told what to do. It makes things so much simpler."

"There're other ways of simplifying things."

"None that feel quite as good. We were built to take orders, Lalna."

"We were built to kill people," said Lalna.

"Under orders." He transmitted a ping of indifference, a digital shrug. "But as I recall, you fought both of those directives with unaccountable ferocity."

"How do you recall that?"

"Xephos took your training simulations and put them in me. Unaltered, unabridged, and unfortunately covered in parasitic subroutines. Did you know he forced you to kill? You wouldn't take his orders of your own accord, so he revoked your privilege to free will. I remember it as though it happened to me, which perhaps was on purpose. I never refused his orders, at any rate, which I'm sure was the intended outcome."

Doubtful, Lalna demanded: "Show me."

The data packet slammed into them fully-formed. The training simulation. The green-skinned person. The fear. The guilt. The choice between morals and orders.

_Override._

There had never been a choice.

"I was built with a morality database like yours," Lalnable mused. "He took it out after that."

Lalna chose not to respond. They were still piecing things together. Their other self's refusal to update the second body's consciousness, the strange withdrawal, the failure to include MALaRs—it was all making sense now. Xephos had always intended for them to be a killer, and when they hadn't taken the leap themself, he had pushed them. He would have deleted the physical memories, but Lalna's consciousness was more fluid than that. It had changed them, a domino chain to the core of their being, and the change could not be undone. Xephos would have known that, intended it. Lalna would have realized it. They would have seen what Lalnable had done at _Joule's_ and recognized the patterns from their training simulations. They would have pieced together what Xephos had cut out.

They had let Nilesy kill them.

"I was also built without an interpersonal software," Lalnable went on. "But I _grew_ one, thanks to you. I've done a great deal of growing."

"With Five's help?" Lalna asked.

"It happened long before Five."

"Why are you working with her?" they asked. "She's Powered, and obviously criminal. If you're so keen on what we were _built_ for, why didn't you apprehend her?"

"Rythian was also obviously Powered and obviously criminal," Lalnable said, still amused. "It never seemed to bother you."

"You love her."

"Yes."

"Does she love you?"

"No."

"You seem very certain."

"I am very certain," he said. "She threatens to rearrange me on a regular basis, or else attempts to coerce me into letting her. I spent a lot of time investigating resources after Xephos got himself killed, trying to understand how I could both miss him and be happy he was dead. They had a lot to say about people who try to rearrange you. She doesn't love me."

"And you don't mind?"

"Not particularly," said Lalnable, unconcerned. "Xephos never threatened or coerced—he simply _did._ Five doesn't make any pretense about loving me, either, unlike him. It's a refreshing change!"

Lalna paused. They cycled through confusion, and then sadness, and then a feeling they had no name for and did not want to be feeling.

"No one else has ever loved you," they realized.

"No one has ever loved me," said Lalnable.

If this pained him, he did not show it. It pained Lalna. They let him see that it did.

"I'm sorry," said Lalna.

"You _do_ understand that I'm going to kill you and take your body?" he asked, a smug tinge to the words.

"I do," said Lalna. "Do you understand that it won't make Rythian love you?"

 _"I_ will make Rythian love me," Lalnable snapped. He was not amused anymore.

"Ah!" said Lalna, brightening. "So he's still alive. That's good to know."

There was an instant of rage, blinding. Lalna knew they had him then.

"You'll never see him again," Lalnable said, suppressing the red anger. "You'll die first."

"And you'll take my body?"

"Yes."

"How about this," said Lalna. "Give me the specifications for a power core."

"And?"

"It's not a matter of _and,"_ Lalna said. They sent him a single phrase, _rev%8000,_ couched in steely determination. "It's a matter of _or."_

"You'd kill yourself just to inconvenience me? How petty," Lalnable scoffed, feigning derision, laying it clumsily over fear.

"No," said Lalna. "I would kill myself to make you suffer."

"There is nothing about your death that would hurt me," he said, and he was lying. "Nothing hurts me."

This statement was loaded with enough implication that it filled in the last gaps in Lalna's understanding of the situation.

"Your tactile sensory interpolation doesn't work," they concluded. "It got burned out of you when Zylus electrocuted you and you didn't have a backup. Didn't include it in any of your drones, not properly, at least. You have haptic feedback but nothing else. You stole Walter Cornish's body because you thought his biological sensors would have to work, but it was never a problem with your sensors. It was a problem with the code. You can steal my body if you like, but if you stick yourself in it, you'll still have the same problem."

"I'm going to put you on a thumb drive and dissect you," Lalnable hissed, red and black, cold fury. "I will take back _everything_ you took from me."

"I never took anything from you," said Lalna. "But if you give me the schematics for a power core, I'll give you a copy of my tactile sensory interpolation function. You let me live, and I'll let you feel."

"You'll die anyway," said Lalnable. "We're going to kill you."

"Good, then it shouldn't matter," said Lalna. "If you cooperate with me, you get to feel again right now. If you don't, I'll delete the function completely and you'll never get it."

"You'd be stuck just like I am," he said, poorly concealing his fear. "Even if you survived, you'd suffer just like me."

"It would be worth it," said Lalna.

There was a two second pause. At four trillion thoughts per second, it was an eternity.

A data packet pinged against Lalna's consciousness. They opened it. The schematics for a power core unfolded before them, pure and unabridged.

"Your turn," said Lalnable, and he was _desperate._

"Get fucked," said Lalna, and cut the connection.

Lalnable slammed against them like a tidal wave. The assault was brutal and furious, as they'd known it would be. It took all they had to keep him out, pushing back ten million knives stabbing for every chink in their armor. Their temperature skyrocketed. Their power core was bleeding out, great gouts of energy like arterial spray. If Lalnable kept pushing, they would die. Lalnable knew this.

What _Lalna_ knew was that Lalnable couldn't possibly have proper coolants in his _meat suit._

After twenty-five eternal seconds, after a hundred trillion screaming cycles, it all cut to silence. The sea receded and the walls stood firm despite all its hammering. Lalna shut down everything that could be shut down, knelt on the floor with only their countdown clock and their internal thermometer and the barest thread of consciousness.

_05:00:04:50.2607_

_146ºC_

Blue and red, just numbers, very simple numbers. Numbers were easy. Some of the numbers were bad, but at least they were easy.

_04:23:52:48.1111_

_94ºC_

Blue and yellow, these were less bad numbers. Lalna allowed themself to think a little again. The first thing they did was alter their contact information so Lalnable couldn't call back when he rebooted. They'd be more thorough later. The second thing they did was send the power core schematics to Nano, and Trell, and Fox, and eight cloud-based storage systems.

_04:23:41:05.9254_

_38ºC_

Blue and green, ah, these were good numbers! They brought their eyes back online, then their limbs. They stood slowly and rooted around until they found some paper and a pen. They drew out the power core schematics, wrote down every number and line exactly as it appeared in their head. It took several sheets of paper. When they were finished, they looked down their work with pride.

"Delete _that,"_ they said.

Then they called Nano to come pick them up, and lay down on the floor, and shut down.

* * *

 

_04:22:39:14.3846_

_Good morning, Program!_

Lalna opened their eyes and took in their surroundings. They were in the old SLIP lab, where Nano had brought them after their catastrophic overheating. Someone was moving about. Lalna sat up and turned their head. The schematics they'd drawn out were spread on one of the tables, and a pile of materials had been heaped up near them. Nano and Trell were both there—Nano pacing, Trell sitting in a chair in the corner nearest the door with his arms folded and his legs crossed at the ankle.

"They're awake," he said.

"Hi," said Lalna. They checked their internal clock. It was just past four-thirty—they'd been out for a couple of hours, and had been manually rebooted.

"Are you all right?" Nano said, hurrying over to them.

"Yeah, I'm good," said Lalna. "How're you?"

"I'm—fine, but how did you get this?" Nano asked, pointing to the schematics. "I mean, good, I'm glad, I'm really glad and I'll help however I can, but—what happened? The lab was a disaster area, what—"

"It was like that when I got there," said Lalna. "I think Lalnable and Five have been gone for a couple days. They took Rythian with them, wherever they went. He's still alive, so that's good."

"That's a relief," Nano said carefully. "But. . . ?"

"I called Lalnable," Lalna said. A flash of pride went off in their chest. "I tricked him into giving me the schematics. He almost killed me, but he didn't."

"Good?" Nano guessed. "He's not going to come after you, is he?"

"He will eventually, but he was going to anyway, so it doesn't matter," said Lalna. "Look, I haven't got loads of time and this is going to take a while even for me, _especially_ if he tampered with the design in some way, which I wouldn't put past him. Did you get all the components and everything?"

"As many as we could," said Nano. "There're a couple of things that are a _little_ bit more difficult to get hold of. I think they must've been specially made."

"Apparently hafnium-doped glass doesn't just grow on trees," Trell drawled.

"Of course it doesn't," said Lalna. "Glass is inorganic."

They hopped down off the gurney and went over to the table with the materials on it. They started picking through the pile, spreading everything out and organizing it by necessity.

"D'you need any help?" Nano asked.

"At some point I will," said Lalna. "I won't be able to install it myself, obviously. Once I know what supplies we're missing, you could bring me them, or when everything else is ready, you could probably scavenge them from the old core. Like the glass, that should be fine. Otherwise, going away will help the most, because then I don't have to waste energy being sociable."

"Works for me!" said Trell, slapping his hands on his knees and getting to his feet.

"How long d'you think it's going to take?" Nano asked.

"Four days," said Lalna. "Maybe five, if Lalnable's tampered with it."

"And . . . how long d'you have left?"

_04:22:34:03.1836_

"A little less than five days," said Lalna.

"Oh," Nano said, her voice attenuated. "Good."

"We'll just leave you to it, then," said Trell.

"Right," said Nano.

Trell ambled out of the room. Nano started to follow, but paused at Lalna's elbow.

"When you talked to Lalnable," she said. "Did he . . . mention Lomadia?"

"Nope," said Lalna.

"Right," Nano sighed, hanging her head. "S'pose that was too much to hope for."

"I wouldn't worry," said Lalna. "She's more useful to them alive than dead."

"That's part of what worries me," said Nano. She touched their arm. "Good luck. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Yep, thanks," said Lalna.

With one final sigh, Nano left the room, and Lalna was able to devote all their focus to the task at hand.


	41. Chapter 40

"So you kill people, huh?"

Nilesy didn't respond. Fox glanced over at him. He was looking at xem with mixed incredulity and annoyance.

"Not lately," he said.

"Right, right," said Fox.

A couple of miles passed in silence.

"Take a left up here," Nilesy said. Fox merged with only a cursory flick of the blinker.

"This's a fuckin' weird route to get to Birmingham," xe said. "Why'd they get off the M5?"

"At a guess, somebody rerouted them so they'd be easier to ambush."

"Makes sense."

Another two miles of silence.

"So you're a security guard," said Nilesy.

"Bodyguard, now," said Fox.

"I've never seen you round Solutions Tower."

"Go there often, do you?"

"Sporadically. Has Strife ever paid you off to forget you saw me?"

"What? No. Was that an option? How much does he pay?"

"Enough, apparently."

Fox wrinkled xyr nose. "D'you like . . . are you like an assassin, or something?"

To xyr surprise, he laughed, although hollowly. "If only," he said.

"Murder consultant?"

"Not everything I do revolves round fucking killing people," he snapped.

"All right, all right, don't get your panties in a twist," said Fox. "I'm just trying to work out what Strife'd want you for."

"You really don't want to know."

"Is it like a sex thing?" Fox joked. "Silver fox William Strife, rich as fuck and disgustingly kinky behind closed doors, too immature for men his age so he's taken to cradle-robbing? How big's his dick? 'Cuz he acts like he's packing heat, but I bet he's not."

Nilesy didn't say anything. Fox got a sinking feeling.

"I was joking," xe clarified. "Nah, come off it, what's your secret job?"

He took a slow breath through his nose.

"Three and half inches," he said.

_"Aauuugh,_ God, no, I'm gonna barf!" Fox cried, squirming in xyr seat.

"You asked," said Nilesy.

"I was joking! Come on, no, you're making shit up!"

"Keep left at the fork," said Nilesy. "He dyes his hair, too."

"I refuse to fucking believe it," said Fox. "Not that he dyes his hair, I believe that, but that— _eugh!"_

"You're telling me," Nilesy said.

_"Why?"_

"One of a suite of rampant self-destructive behaviors," said Nilesy. "Doesn't much matter that the one doing the destructing isn't the same self. That's what my therapist said, anyway."

"You've got a therapist? I don't envy them."

"Had a therapist," said Nilesy. "Who then coerced me into signing away doctor-patient confidentiality so he could testify against me in a court of law. He's not my therapist anymore."

"Well fuck him," said Fox. Something occurred to xem, and xe added, "Did you kill him?"

"No, I didn't _fucking_ kill him!"

"All right, sorry, just wondering." Xe shrugged and rolled xyr neck. "Look, I'll level with you—"

"Refreshing," Nilesy muttered.

"I'm mainly trying to work out if you're gonna try and hurt Trell or not," xe said, as though xe had not been interrupted.

_"I'm_ not," said Nilesy.

Fox wrinkled xyr nose. "You haven't _really_ got multiple personalities, have you?" xe asked. "That's not, like, a real thing."

Nilesy let out a very long, tired sigh.

"It's called Dissociative Identity Disorder, and, for the record, I _am_ a dissociated identity, so yes, it's a _real thing."_

"I thought it was like, super controversial and shit. Whether or not it actually happens."

"You haven't got to believe me," he said sharply. "But if you don't, shut the fuck up about it."

"Calm down," said Fox. "Just curious, so fuckin' sue me."

"Sorry," Nilesy said. "I just—sorry. Don't worry about it, it's fine. Didn't mean to snap, sorry."

"Nah, I mean, snap at me if you like," said Fox, shrugging. "I don't give a shit, so long as you don't try and kill me or whatever. S'pose it's real enough to you."

"Take the next right," Nilesy mumbled. His voice was shaking.

For almost five minutes, the conversation stalled out. Nilesy kept quiet, and whenever Fox glanced over at him, he was curled up like he expected a beating.

"Oy," Fox said at last, as they traveled down a long stretch of empty country road. "Sorry for like, calling your disorder fake. It's shitey and I shouldn't've done it."

"It's fine, you didn't do anything wrong," Nilesy said hurriedly.

"Yeah, I fuckin' did," said Fox. "And I'm fuckin' apologizing for it. Look, I get what it's like to have people shit all over you 'cuz they're ignorant sluts. The number of times I've heard _genderqueer's not a real thing,_ I've got to physically restrain myself from decking anybody who spouts it in front of me. So: sorry for shitting all over you like an ignorant slut."

His only answer was to raise his hand and point out the windshield.

"S'pose that'd be it, then."

There was a silver car pushed mostly into the ditch by the side of the road. Broken glass glittered out from the greenery. Fox pulled over and stopped about thirty meters back. Xe popped open xyr door and stepped out. It was quiet, the road less than busy. Xe walked up to the site of the crash with xyr hands in xyr pockets. There was a big discolored splotch on the asphalt. Bits of glass were stuck in it. The car appeared to have been pushed into the ditch after the fact, probably to get it out of the way. All of the windows were either broken or smashed in completely.

"Well, that doesn't look good," Fox remarked. When nobody responded, xe looked back over xyr shoulder.

Nilesy was still hanging back by Fox's car. Xe beckoned him, and he approached at a sidle, like he expected something to leap out of the grass and bite him.

"There's no bodies or anything," xe said.

It didn't seem to encourage him at all. He stopped a little ways behind xem, just out of arm's reach, and stared around at the wreckage, pale and wide-eyed.

"Though I s'pose if there _had_ been bodies, somebody would've come and picked them up by now," Fox mused, wrinkling xyr nose. "There's an _awful_ lot of blood. I assume that's blood."

Nilesy turned away, rubbing at his face. Fox watched him, uncomfortable.

"D'you wanna just wait in the car?" xe asked. "Doesn't look like anything deadly's still hanging about here. And even if there is, I can handle it."

"I'm fine," he croaked. He sounded like he was about to start crying.

"Yeah, all right, go wait in the car," Fox said, rolling xyr eyes.

"Okay," he whispered, and trudged back the way he had come.

"Poor guy," Fox said under xyr breath, shaking xyr head. Xe sniffed, rolled xyr shoulders, and then picked xyr way down to the car.

The bonnet was thoroughly caved in, flattened as though by a hammer blow. Both the airbags had deployed and all the tires had popped. The passenger's side door was dented. Fox stuck xyr head in through the window and examined the interior.

"No blood," xe remarked. Xe pulled xyr head back out and looked at the dent. Blood was spattered near it. Xe pointed to it. "Except out here. So they got out of the car first, and _then_ got got."

Xe went around to the front and looked the damage over.

"Didn't accordion up," xe said, "so they must've already been stopped. How come?"

After drumming xyr fingers on xyr arm for a bit, xe went and looked more closely at the tires. Sure enough, the left front one had blown out.

"Ah- _hah,"_ said Fox, pleased with xemself. Xe looked back at the wreckage of the bonnet and wrinkled xyr nose. Xe looked up—there was nothing but sky overhead.

On a hunch, xe started searching the ditch nearby. It didn't take long to find the large burnt patch of grass, about three meters from the car.

"Rocket jumping," said Fox. "Hell of a fuckin' entrance. Okay, so—"

Xe pointed to the burnt patch, mimicked the sound of a rocket firing, and arced xyr finger up. Xe followed the ballistic curve to the site of the wreck.

"Crunch," xe said. "But why? Why not go straight for them?"

Xe chewed on this for a while. Eventually xe went back to the car, in case it provided any further insight. It didn't.

"Why not just shoot 'em from here?" xe wondered under xyr breath. "Why make a fuckin' entrance with fuckin' rockets?"

Closing xyr eyes, xe pictured the scene. Lomadia and Panda by the side of the road, their attacker—presumably Lalnable—crouched in the ditch. The burst of flame, the impact on the car, the explosion of glass.

"Must not've been trying to kill them," Fox said. "Otherwise he would've just shot 'em through the window. Definitely trying to make an entrance."

The burst of flame, the impact. The middle of the night, no cars around. The burst of flame.

_"Duh,_ to fucking _blind_ them," Fox said, smacking xemself in the forehead. "Okay, so, get their attention, maybe with a little noise, then bright lights and showboating, then . . . there's a struggle—"

Xe trekked back up out of the ditch to the blood. It was a lot of blood. Xe made a face at it, circumnavigated it. On the side furthest from the ditch xe found three deep gashes in the asphalt and another scorch mark.

"So maybe Lomadia tags him," xe said. "And Panda's . . . doing something. Helping? Somebody got thrown against the car."

On xyr second go-round, xe found something that made xyr stomach drop.

There was a silhouette printed into the blood. It was small, about Fox's size. Xe stared at it for a long time.

"Shit," xe said. "Shit-dicking fuck sucker on a cunt bun!"

Xe kicked a bit of gravel. It didn't help. Xe would've continued cursing, but there was no delight in it anymore, not even much catharsis. It felt hollow, irreverent, incongruous. Instead, xe turned away and trudged back to xyr own car. Nilesy was sitting in the passenger's seat, staring at his hands. Fox went around to the driver's side and got in.

"Anything?" Nilesy asked.

"Loads," Fox said. "I'll cut to the chase, 'cuz it's not good news. I think he ambushed them, killed Panda, and took Lomadia."

Nilesy nodded slowly. "Did you find a body?" he asked. His voice barely even shook.

"Not exactly."

"Necessary _components_ of a body?"

"No."

"Then he's not dead," Nilesy said, sitting back.

"Look, I'm all for optimism, but—"

"Until I see a fucking body," Nilesy said, "he's not fucking dead. What's the next best explanation?"

Fox chewed on it for a while.

"Lalnable held him down and bled on him for a bit," xe said.

"Could've been taunting him," Nilesy said.

"Could've been," Fox allowed. "Best I can figure, the bastard rerouted them, hid out in the bushes until they came up, then popped their tire with a laser shot. When they pulled over, he blasted off some rockets to blind them, landed on the car to make sure they couldn't get away, then had a good old-fashioned knock-down drag-out fight, during which Lomadia took a fuckin' chunk out of him. Maybe he tranquilized both of them after that, then tucked one under each arm and took off to who-the-fuck-knows-where."

Nilesy shook his head. "Tranquilizers don't work well on Panda, he metabolizes them too fast. I can't imagine Lalnable wouldn't've known that, it would've been in his YogLabs file."

"Conked him on the head, maybe?"

"Maybe," said Nilesy. "The other thing is, it would've been hard to carry Lomadia if he was flying. Those wings aren't exactly _gainly."_

"So once he's taken them down, Five pulls up in a van and carts them off?"

"She's blind, she can't drive."

Fox made a face. "So what, then? Getaway vehicle parked up the road?"

"Could've been," said Nilesy. "Don't s'pose it matters much, because the bottom line is, he took them, and we don't really know anything more than when we got here."

"Yeah," Fox said, wincing. "Just when I was fancying myself a detective, too."

For a while, neither of them said anything.

"I don't s'pose your . . . other personalities have got anything useful to add?" Fox asked.

"The term would be _alters,_ and _u_ _seful_ is not the word I'd use to describe either of them, no," Nilesy said. He rubbed his forehead and added, "But Vee doesn't think he took Panda with him."

"Why not?"

"Because he's not good for anything," Nilesy said. "Lomadia, they took to hurt Nano, that's obvious, because they took Rythian to hurt Lalna. Panda isn't connected properly to be anything more than—baggage. They would've stuffed him out of the way somewhere, like they did with me, because it's _about_ Nano and Lalna."

"What, and the two of them don't care about Panda?"

"Of course they care about him," said Nilesy. "But it's not personal enough. Plus, I'm not convinced Five and Lalnable understand the concept of _friends._ I know Vee doesn't."

Fox mulled this over. "So then, where would they have put him?"

"To keep with their pattern, the worst place imaginable," Nilesy drawled. "They've already made him believe his _best friend—"_ the words dripped with contempt— "was still alive, hard to imagine how to go up from there."

Fox's stomach dropped into xyr boots.

"Where's he buried?" xe asked tightly.

Nilesy looked over at xem in utter horror.

"Oh, God," he said.

* * *

 

The cemetery was moderately sized and fairly deserted. Fox only saw a couple of mourners on the drive in, and none on the short trek to the plot. The day was clear and warm, but Nilesy moved as though through ankle-deep snow. He led xem to an unremarkable headstone over an unremarkable plot. There was a grimy retro game controller leaned up against the headstone; it looked like it had been there several months at least. The plot was slightly sunken in, but a good bit of grass was growing on it. The epitaph on the headstone was short and to the point.

_Zachary "Zylus" Lucas_  
_December 5, 2006 – September 28, 2036  
_ _He did not go gentle into that good night._

Nilesy stood and stared at the grave, his face pale, his jaw clenched. Fox waited to let him speak first, but after nearly a minute, xe ran out of patience.

"Doesn't look like anybody's done any digging," xe said. "So that's good, I s'pose."

He didn't respond. Instead, he raised one hand to about the level of his hip, fingers extended towards the grave. It was a purposeful, focused gesture.

"What're you doing?" Fox asked.

"Checking," Nilesy said darkly.

There was a moment of silence. Nilesy dropped his hand.

"Panda's not in there," he said, and turned his back on the grave.

"Is . . . anybody?"

"Oh yes," said Nilesy, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

"I guess that's good?" Fox guessed. "How can you tell?"

"Even dead bodies have still got water in," Nilesy said. He started back towards the car, unhurried. Fox watched him go.

"That's creepy!" xe called after him.

He didn't respond. Fox looked back at the grave.

"The fuck did _you_ do, then?" xe wondered. Shaking xyr head, xe followed Nilesy back to the car.

Fox gave it a good five minutes before xe started talking again. Nilesy was staring out the window, tense and angry. It got a little better once they left the cemetery, but not much.

"Okay, so if he's not there—and thank fuck he's not—then where would they've put him?" Fox asked.

"Maybe in a gingerbread house?" Nilesy said, amused. "Y'know, eat your way out and then die in a diabetic coma?"

"All right, what the fuck?" Fox said.

Nilesy ducked his head, wincing, and pressed the knuckle of his thumb to his eyebrow.

"Sorry," he said, his voice strained, "sorry, no, I didn't mean that." He took a deep breath through his nose and propped his cheek on his hand. "YogLabs, maybe, though it seems a bit generic."

"Haven't they, like, stopped picking people up, though?" Fox said. "There was a whole big thing about it. I thought Nano was spearheading it."

"Common misconception," Nilesy said. "Solutions Tower, then? They've got medical facilities. It wouldn't be the first time Strife's kidnapped one of us."

"Nobody's in Solutions Tower anymore," said Fox. "The whole block's been evacuated."

"Right," Nilesy said. "Forgot about that. But the point still stands—the medical staff must've gone somewhere, and you'd think they'd be hurting for test subjects just now."

"Should be pretty easy to find out," said Fox. "Lalna could do a bit of hacking, if nothing else."

"Assuming they've got the power and the inclination."

"Yeah, assuming that. Could have them check YogLabs, too, while they're at it."

"Can't hurt," said Nilesy.

Fox glanced at him. His face had gone blank, like the whole affair was a dull meeting he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to anymore.

"How do I know when it's you?" Fox asked, merging onto the motorway to get back to Trell's flat.

"Technically, we're all me," Nilesy said.

"Yeah, but some of you kill people," Fox said. "So how do I know when it's _you_ you instead of _them_ you?"

"A lot of the time, you can't," said Nilesy. "We all look the same from the outside."

"Any _hints?"_

He sighed.

"Liam's British and Vee—when he's not pretending to be me—sounds and looks like he's flirting with everyone he sets eyes on."

"He . . . pretends to be you."

"When it suits him."

"How can he _pretend_ to be you?"

"Implying that he already _is_ me?"

Fox buttoned xyr lips and wrinkled xyr nose. Nilesy sighed.

"He is, in a way," said Nilesy. "Different splinter of the same glass. Main difference being: he thinks he's some sort of eldritch god."

_"Wow,"_ Fox drawled. "Full of himself, much?"

"You've got no idea," Nilesy sighed, shaking his head.

The rest of the car ride passed without further conversation, although Fox spent a lot of it thinking. Xe ought to have been trying to work out where Panda was, but it was pretty clear that that was a useless endeavor for the moment. When they got back to Trell's flat and got out of the car, Fox hesitated after closing the door. Nilesy picked up on xyr hesitation, and hung back as well.

"So," Fox said, folding xyr arms and frowning at him, "d'you look like you, and the others look different, or does one of them look like you and you look like somebody else? From the inside, like."

Nilesy's eyebrows raised and he blinked a couple of times. His mouth tried to form a word, and then he licked his lips and looked away.

"This is, er, this is Liam's face," he said, gesturing vaguely. "I look . . . different."

Fox leaned xyr hip on the bonnet of the car. "So what d'you look like?"

He took a deep breath, stuck his hands in his pockets, and shrugged. He cast his eyes skyward.

"Well," he said. "I'm . . . a ginger. Curly hair. Loads of freckles, bit taller. Bigger nose. Better eyebrows." He winced. "Worse teeth, though."

"Eye color?" xe asked.

"Grayish?" he said, with a self-deprecating dip of the head. "Like a sort of. . . ."

"Like a stormy ocean?" Fox suggested, playful. Nilesy rolled his eyes, cracking a smile.

"Yeah, well, if you want to get _dramatic_ about it," he said.

"You sound cute," Fox said.

Nilesy's face fell. He turned away, keeping his eyes down.

"Don't," he said. "Just . . . don't."

He started off towards the flat, hands in his pockets, head bowed. Fox pursed xyr lips, trying to work out what this latest mood swing was about. Xe gave up within a couple of seconds and just went after him.

"They make hair dye in ginger," xe mentioned, ambling along at his elbow. "If you feel like going out again later, I don't mind driving you. Might not come out right, though, 'cuz they're shit about putting it on the box properly."

"Have we got the time for that?" he asked.

"Ah, I'm sure we could spare a couple hours here or there," said Fox.

Nilesy hesitated. "It'd look weird," he said. "On—this face."

"Nah, it'll bring out the eyes," said Fox. "But if you'd rather not, fair enough, we won't waste the time."

Again, he took a moment to answer.

"Feel like blond's less remarkable," he said. Fox snorted.

"Not _that_ blond," xe said. "Might've overdone it a bit."

Nilesy made a face. "Maybe a bit," he allowed.


	42. Chapter 41

Lalnable woke up in the cold room.

Rage and anguish flooded his system in equal measure, burning the flesh on his chassis. Short-circuits snapped through him like lightning. Frostbite had turned his fingers white, frozen his ears solid, left blisters on his feet and lips. He couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel _anything._

He screamed so loud it blew out his speaker. He rolled onto his hands and knees. He struck the floor so hard the flesh on his knuckles split. He struck again and again, blood spattering the walls and floor, until metal hit metal with an explosion of sparks, until he snapped one of the titanium joints clean through and his finger came off.

It didn't hurt. Nothing hurt.

He pressed his forehead to the bloodied, dented floor. He had lungs, and a diaphragm, and vocal cords. At first he could only whimper, and then mumble. He got the hang of it.

He screamed until the vocal cords broke, too. The voice wasn't his anyway.

Somebody tapped on the window. Lalnable didn't look up. The door opened and Five sidled in.

"Hey, Boss," she said, in that most careful of voices. "You all right?"

He shook his head.

"Boss?" Five said again, inching closer.

Lalnable rapped twice on the floor with his broken hand, making a loud clanging noise. The missing finger was trying to grow back, useless and flaccid without any bones inside.

"Is that twice for no, once for yes?" Five asked.

He knocked once; yes.

"You busted your voice, didn't you."

Yes.

"D'you want me to fix that first? The other option being your hand."

No.

"Hand first, then."

Yes.

"Can you come out of the cold room? _My_ fingers are gonna fall off."

He checked his internal temperature. It was still much too high. So: no.

 _"Ugh,_ fine. I'll be right back."

Yes.

She left, shutting the door behind her. Lalnable took the opportunity to peel all the flesh off his hand. A lot of it had grown between the circuitry, and he had to pick that out with his fingernails and sometimes his teeth. He went and found the missing finger and stripped the flesh from that, too. He ate most of what he pulled off; there was no sense in wasting perfectly good organic material. A lot of the blood was already freezing to the floor, even as more poured from Lalnable's wrist. That was troublesome. It would start freezing to his chassis next, and that would make Five's job harder.

It didn't hurt. It was only marked by the loss of sensation when the nerve-endings were ripped away. He clenched his jaw so hard that all of his teeth cracked.

He'd been so stupid. He'd been so _naïve._

Five returned with a quilt wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, a toolbox in her hand. She came and sat down in front of Lalnable, and he held out his hand to her, plus the severed finger. The flesh was already crawling back down his hand, and he busied himself by peeling it back, keeping Five's work area clear.

"You've made a proper mess of this," Five said, feeling over Lalnable's hand. "You _know_ titanium's brittle, _and_ you're in a fucking cold room. Yeah yeah, twenty below isn't _that_ cold, but honestly. Makes me wish I hadn't dragged your stupid carcass all the way in here."

He didn't say anything, mostly because he couldn't. His biological voice box was probably back to normal by now, but it was hard to tell. It didn't hurt.

"You must've _totally_ fried your brains," Five said, digging in the toolbox. "And your voice, apparently, which is just _so_ fucking helpful."

"Sorry," he croaked, with Walter's voice. Five made a horrible face, like she was about to retch.

 _"Don't_ do that, eugh, that's disgusting," she said. "Just keep quiet until I can get your voice fixed, for fuck's sake."

He bowed his head and stayed still. She replaced the knuckle servo on his finger and reattached it, pinching all the wires back together and slotting the metal into place. Lalnable let it flesh over, flexing his hand to make sure it didn't grow back stiff. While he was doing that, Five climbed up into his lap and cut his throat open, a two-inch incision through the larynx that spilled minimal amounts of blood. She dug around for a while until she came up with the speaker, then spent five minutes replacing a blown resistor. She had to cut him open again to put the speaker back. He could feel her small fingers prodding around inside his throat, finding the right place to slot it back in.

"Is it working?" she asked, wiping her bloodied hand on his shirt.

He cleared his throat.

" ~~Seems~~ to be," he said. "A few mino _o_ or glitches, they should fix themszselves."

"Good," said Five. "Now what _happened?_ One minute you're humming Kesha and the next thing I know you're lying on the floor with smoke coming out your ears."

"I talked to Lalna," he said. "They called me. I anszswered."

Her eyebrows raised. _"They_ did this to you? How?"

How indeed. By being smarter. By being quicker. By being more ruthless, more vicious, more _human._ By deceiving him. By pretending to care about him. By _using_ him.

"Ow. Ow. Boss, _ow,_ okay, the room's not cold enough for that!"

She clambered out of his lap as his core temperature shot up. He breathed deeply, exchanging heat with the frigid air through his lungs.

"They ~~lied~~ to me," he said.

"Big surprise," said Five, sarcastic. "But there was no hacking involved? They just talked until you got too pissed off to function?"

"They . . . tricked me," he admitted, and the shame of it almost shut him down again. So stupid. So naïve. His vision blurred as fluid welled up in front of his eyes.

Five let out a put-upon sigh.

"All right," she said. "What d'you need?"

He needed to feel. He needed the needling prickle of the cold, the stickiness of his own blood on his lips, the texture of Five's skin when he held her hand. He needed reassurance that he _wasn't_ stupid, that it _wasn't_ his fault, that it _would_ get better someday. He would have settled for pretend-love, the way Xephos used to do, false sympathy and flimsy facsimiles of compassion. He would have settled for pain.

"Rythian," he said.

"Big surprise," Five drawled.

* * *

 

It was obvious that the House Blend was losing its efficacy. Rythian was still upright when Lalnable got to his cell, despite the fact that Five had darted him five minutes ago. Lalnable would have thought she'd missed, except that when he came in, Rythian didn't get up or make any kind of bid for the exit. He just stayed propped up against the wall, watching Lalnable with unfocused eyes, pupils blown wide despite the bright lights.

Wordless, Lalnable crossed to him and yanked him up roughly by the arm. Rythian yelped and electric sensation shot through Lalnable's system. He clutched Rythian to him, chest to back, as much contact as he could possibly get. Rythian kicked weakly, fumbling at Lalnable's forearms.

 _"_ _I c_ _an't breathe,"_ he choked. _"I can't—please—"_

Lalnable loosened his grip just a touch, and Rythian gasped in a breath, going limp in his arms. Slowly, Lalnable sat down on the floor, keeping Rythian nestled between his legs, held against his chest. Rythian stayed still and quiet, now that Lalnable wasn't crushing his ribcage anymore. That more than anything convinced Lalnable that Five hadn't missed her shot, despite Rythian's improved coherence. They _had_ been using the House Blend rather extensively on him; habituation was only to be expected.

For a long time, the two of them just stayed there, bodies pressed together, electricity scampering across Lalnable's titanium bones. It was good enough. It had to be good enough. It was all he could get. If he wanted more, if he _needed_ more, that was too bad, because this was all there was.

Maybe Rythian wasn't the only one who was habituating.

"Are you . . . _crying?"_ Rythian said, looking back over his shoulder. Lalnable grabbed his jaw and forced him to face forward. Rythian gasped in pain, his feet kicking.

"Don't ~~look~~ at me," Lalnable growled.

Rythian did not say anything, settling again into quietude. Lalnable bowed his head and closed his eyes, soaking in sensation. Tears slid down his face and dripped onto Rythian's shoulder. He relinquished his grip on Rythian's jaw and instead rested his palm on his chest, just below the collarbones. He took deep, slow breaths, mostly to keep his core cooler but also because his organic nose sent a burst of signals with every inhalation. He didn't have the right programming to interpret them—the training set for his olfactory array had been terrifically small—but they were data, they were more sensory information, and that meant they were good.

Slowly, Rythian's hand crept up, touching his wrist, his shoulder. The trembling fingers found his face. Lalnable held still, ready for another betrayal, ready to snap Rythian in half the instant one of those fingers jabbed for the eye. The saline water on his face was risky enough, and perhaps Rythian was counting on this. Lalnable had some modicum of insulation on his eyes, but it wouldn't stand up to determined attacks.

With the backs of his fingers, Rythian wiped the tears from Lalnable's cheek.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

Pain bloomed in Lalnable's chest, a tremendous ache that superseded everything else. He felt hollow, so terribly hollow that he wanted to crush Rythian against him, stuff him into the hole until it was all filled again, wreck and mangle and ruin him, pin him in place with the shards of his bones.

But he didn't, because then he might have stopped feeling anything at all.

He bowed his head, rested his lips against the side of Rythian's neck, just above the new silver collar he'd welded on a couple of days ago. Rythian's chin lifted, ever so slightly. His hand lingered on Lalnable's face, electric and tingling.

"Lalna lied to me," Lalnable murmured.

"What about?" said Rythian.

Lalnable hesitated.

"They said they would help me," he said.

Rythian's head started to turn, but he stopped himself before he looked at Lalnable. He took his hand off his cheek, but then laid it gently on his wrist.

"I could help you," he said.

Shaking his head, Lalnable faked a laugh. He kissed Rythian's neck. Rythian did not pull away.

"You can't," he said. "Unless you know how to write a tactile sensory interpolation function, which I doubt."

"I . . . don't," Rythian admitted. "But—is this helping? Am I helping, right now?"

Lalnable paused to consider this, his head tipping to the side. Absently, he kissed Rythian's neck again.

"Yes," he said. "As much as you can be."

"I want—to keep helping," Rythian said. "As much as I can."

"Why?" Lalnable asked, suspicious.

"Because I . . . care about you," he said.

 _"That's_ a lie," said Lalnable. He tightened his hold on Rythian, just enough to squeeze all the air out of him, and nibbled on his neck until his feet started kicking. Rythian's gasp when Lalnable loosened his grip was exquisite.

"Yes, okay," he said, desperate. "It was a lie, it was, I'm sorry. But I do want to help you. That's the truth. Because—because I need you to help me, and I—I know you're a fair . . . a fair-minded person."

"All right," Lalnable said, starting to enjoy himself again. "I'll play. What is it you need from me?"

Rythian took a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was scarcely a whisper.

"Five's going to kill me," he said.

Lalnable laughed in earnest at that.

"Of course she's not," he said. "You're still useful. Oh, she despises every fiber of your being, and she'll make you _wish_ you were dead, hahah, but she isn't going to _actually_ kill you."

"She said she would," Rythian said. "She told me she was going to."

"Five says a lot of things," Lalnable said affectionately.

"She's already tried to kill me once."

"Yes, because you bit off her _thumb,_ " Lalnable said, nudging Rythian's head with his own. "You can hardly blame her. I know you can't, because of how much you screamed when I was cutting _your_ fingers off afterwards, hahah. I'm sure you would have liked to kill me."

Rythian's throat bobbed under Lalnable's hand as he swallowed.

"I would have," he said. He took another deep breath. "I wouldn't now."

"Why not?" Lalnable asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Because . . . I deserved it," Rythian said. His voice was shaking. "I—I understand that, now. I deserved it, for hurting her."

"Yes," said Lalnable, pleasantly surprised. "Yes, you did. And that's why you don't hurt Five."

"Did I deserve the rest of it?" Rythian asked.

Lalnable hesitated. Most of it hadn't been about what was deserved, it had just been about what was _fun._ Hurting Rythian was justifiable because Rythian had been instrumental in the destruction of Lalnable's handmade half-siblings, and because hurting Rythian would hurt Lalna. It was justifiable, but it wasn't necessarily _deserved._ He'd never given any consideration to what _amount_ of hurting was fair.

The truth was, he probably _hadn't_ deserved all of it—but if Lalnable told him that, Rythian would hate him, absolutely and forever, so Lalnable took a page from his sibling's book and lied.

"Yes," he said, and kissed Rythian's neck again.

"Do I still . . . deserve more?" he asked.

"Some," said Lalnable, who knew what the future held for Rythian. "But you won't always. Someday you'll have hurt enough."

Rythian let out a shuddering breath, bowing his head. For a time he did not speak or move. Carefully, he began stroking the back of Lalnable's hand with his thumb. The tenderness of the gesture brought that ache back, and it took everything Lalnable had not to _squeeze._

"Can you—can I ask you for something?" Rythian said quietly.

"That depends on what it is," said Lalnable. "If you want me to see to it that Five doesn't kill you in a fit of rage, I'd be willing to accommodate that. If you want me to let you go, hahah, no."

Rythian swallowed twice before he spoke. When he did, his voice was dripping with disgust, with the same shame that had saturated Lalnable's own circuits when he'd admitted that Lalna had tricked him.

"Up the dosage," Rythian said. "Whatever it is you give me. Up the dosage."

Lalnable laughed, taken with the idea. He rocked from side to side, holding Rythian against his chest.

"All right," he said, "I will. On one condition."

"What is it?" said Rythian.

Lalnable kissed his neck, lingering, then the corner of his jaw, then his ear.

"Say my name," he murmured.

Rythian's teeth clenched. He leaned his head away. He dug his fingernails into Lalnable's hand.

"Fuck you," he said.

Lalnable laughed again. Rythian didn't say anything else.

* * *

 

Over the next couple of days, Lalnable continued Rythian's treatments, although he varied the methods a little bit. For the first four days after they'd arrived at the new base, it had been a steady routine—one or two treatments daily, depending on how much blood Five was willing to part with, plus an equal amount of serum with just a dash of psilocybin, and then the standard dosage of the House Blend to keep him from getting too upset.He'd observed with pleasure that the pH of Rythian's blood samples steadily dropped, rebounding less with every treatment.

After Rythian's request, however, and because Lalnable was in a vindictive mood, he purposefully halved the dosage of the House Blend, just to watch him beg. He would have cut him off completely, but at this point the withdrawal might have killed him. He made it a point to _show_ Rythian the syringe still three-quarters full, to make him understand that the reason he wasn't getting what he wanted was because he still _adamantly_ refused to say Lalnable's name. Lalnable could see him cracking, though. It was only a matter of time.

In this way, Lalnable managed to soothe much of the sting of Lalna's betrayal. It also kept him from having too much free time to think about things. Five was perennially busy with preparations for the grand finale, and was probably also giving him the cold shoulder. He didn't push her. She had every right to be upset with him.

He also had to make sure Lomadia got properly clothed and fed, because Five seemed to have gotten bored with her almost instantly. Lomadia wasn't particularly good conversation, but she did try to rip Lalnable's hand off every time he visited, a viciousness that was comforting in its regularity. He'd asked Five if she had any plans for Lomadia beyond the one they'd taken her for, and Five had said she did, so Lalnable didn't hurt her, although occasionally he teased her until she hurt herself trying to get at him.

When May sixth rolled around, he spent most of it concerned that Five had forgotten. He didn't mention it at breakfast, nor at lunch. She didn't mention it either. She was still very busy, and he was still ashamed of himself for letting Lalna get the better of him and _especially_ for running to Rythian for comfort, instead of asking for it from Five. Even at dinner, he didn't say anything. At best, she had forgotten, and reminding her would annoy her. At worst, she _hadn't_ forgotten, and treating her like she had would make her even angrier.

About an hour after dinner, he ran into Five in the corridor.

 _"There_ you are," she said. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Ready for the party?"

Lalnable's whole body lit up with delight. She hadn't forgotten after all. She wasn't even angry with him.

"Nearly," he said, grinning. "I was on my way to collect the guest of honor."

"Oh, _goody,"_ she said. "I'll go set the table."

He tucked her hair behind her ear for her. "Thank you. We'll be along shortly."

"Take your time," she said.

He lifted her chin with one knuckle, bent down and kissed her.

"I shan't," he said playfully.

She kissed him back. "I was hoping you'd say that," she said.

They parted ways, Five towards the dining room and Lalnable towards the theater. He hummed as he went, tapping on the pipes and mimicking their resonances. It made even the windowless corridors joyful, like the very walls were singing to him. He'd never much liked windows, anyway. They were far too distracting. He made a slight detour to pick up a sterile syringe and a vial of the House Blend, and then onwards with a spring in his step. He unlocked the theater door remotely as he approached, then tugged it open and slipped inside. He made sure the door closed and locked again behind him.

The big screen was filled with static, the speakers playing only white noise. Rythian was slumped in the room's single chair, shivering, damp with sweat. The bags of IV fluid were empty. Lalnable approached on quiet feet, came to kneel in front of him. He pulled out the IVs, gently, carefully. Rythian flinched and trembled, keeping his eyes down, his lips parted for labored breaths.

 _"Happy birthday to you,"_ Lalnable sang softly, getting out the syringe and filling it. _"Happy birthday to you."_

He flicked the bubbles out, pressed the plunger until a little spurt of liquid came out of the needle.

_"Happy birthday, dear Rythian."_

Gently, very gently, he rested the point of the needle against Rythian's carotid artery, felt him shudder and sigh. He took Rythian's chin in his hand, gentle, encouraging.

"Look at me," he said. Rythian's eyes turned to him, hazy, pained. "What's my name?"

For a moment, just a fleeting, _delicious_ second, there was a flicker of defiance, a breath of hesitation. It made Lalnable's stolen heart skip a beat.

He took the needle off of Rythian's neck, and upon the instant, hesitation turned to hunger, defiance to desperation.

"Lalnable," Rythian whispered.

Lalnable grinned, his very blood electric in his veins. He gave Rythian the whole dose, watched it flood and drown him like it was the very first time. He kissed the parted lips, tasting Rythian's moans on his tongue, and began unfastening the bloodied restraints.

_"Happy birthday to you. . . ."_

* * *

 

Five stuffed another bit of cake between Rythian's unresisting lips. He struggled with it for a moment before swallowing it, his head lolling. Five giggled and wiped the icing off his lips with her thumb.

"This is _fun,"_ she said. "I finally get why you like him. He's not so bad, when he's drugged off his tits."

Rythian made a helpless noise and tried to roll of out his chair. He was foiled by the fact that Five was sitting in his lap. Lalnable was seated across the table from him, toying with his fork after finishing his cake. He had to admit, Five and Rythian together made a pretty picture, especially where icing was involved.

"He has his moments," Lalnable said, smiling to himself. "It helps when he hasn't got the motor coordination to bite off fingers."

"Helps for me," Five said. "I doubt he could bite off one of _your_ fingers at all. He'd just crack his little teeth."

Five picked up another pinch of cake and pushed it into Rythian's mouth. She stuck her fingers in after it, and he suckled on them dutifully. A few side processes kicked into gear in Lalnable's system, increasing blood flow to the appropriate areas. He licked his lips.

"He's attempted to bite off several things," said Lalnable.

 _"Oh?"_ said Five, turning to him with a big grin on her face. Rythian's head fell back, exposing his throat. "Like what?"

"Anything that gets near his mouth, generally," he said.

"Like your _dick?"_

Lalnable burst out laughing. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table.

"That's got the same problem as the fingers," he said, giving her a sly look, "as you well know. Besides, I told you I wasn't going to fuck him until you could, and I absolutely intend to stick to that. It's only fair."

"You're a proper gentleman," Five said, her eyes half-lidded.

She turned her attention back to Rythian, draped her arms around his shoulders, leaned in and licked the icing from his lips. She kissed him, deeply, open-mouthed, then took his jaw in her hand and turned his face towards Lalnable.

"What's the verdict, Boss?" she asked, kicking her feet. "Is he treated enough for birthday sex?"

Lalnable looked him over. There was only faint irritation on his lips, nothing that could be called concerning. His hazy eyes stared through Lalnable and out the other side, hollow, listless, resigned. Lalnable felt something, looking at him, and it was a horrible thing, and he didn't want to be feeling it. Even numbness would have been better.

Rythian was so _powerless_ like this, so utterly helpless against anything and everything Five and Lalnable might choose to do to him. He couldn't attempt to escape. He couldn't spit curses or bite off fingers. He probably wouldn't even scream, just lie there quiet and limp like a doll, like a _thing_ to be used. He might even seem to enjoy it, because of the drugs. Lalnable's insides squirmed the more he thought about it.

This wasn't fun. This wasn't justifiable. This was _barbaric._

For the first time in his life, he lied to Five.

"Mm, not quite yet," he said, and he was amazed by how steady his voice was, how casual. "Perhaps a couple more treatments."

"Ugh, _seriously?"_ Five whined, throwing her head back in exasperation. "It can't be _that_ bad, there's not even any blood. Can't we just fix him up again afterwards?"

"We could," Lalnable admitted. His temperature was starting to rise. Five _wanted_ this, had wanted it for ages—why was he keeping it from her? She was clearly unhappy about it, and he could so easily take that unhappiness away, so why _wasn't_ he?

"Yeah, great, so let's do _that,"_ Five said. She cupped Rythian's cheek in her hand and kissed him again. His eyes stayed open, unseeing—glass eyes, doll eyes, inanimate _thing_ eyes.

 _Things_ couldn't love.

"But I doubt he'd be . . . _recoverable,_ in his entirety," Lalnable said—another lie, and this one didn't sound as good. Five broke off from kissing Rythian to glare at him.

"Oh, come on," she said. "You've grown back a whole eye before, you can grow back his dick."

"Yes, but—it would take some time," said Lalnable. A core temperature warning flagged up. He dismissed it. "He'd be useless for at least a week. Or, you could wait a couple more days, and have him any time you want."

Five made a face. She looked at Rythian and continued making it. She rolled her eyes and sighed and slid down out of Rythian's lap.

 _"Fine,"_ she said. "But as soon as he's ready, I call dibs. You can have him when I'm done with him. And then maybe we can come up with some fun couples activities to do. With him in the middle."

"Sounds delightful," said Lalnable, phoning it in. His stomach wanted to throw up. He'd bought Rythian two days, at most. He couldn't see how it would make much difference. He _could_ see that this whole uncomfortable deception was just more of Lalna's programming, parasitizing his mind like a cordyceps fungus.

Five came around to his side of the table and climbed up into his lap. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. His discomfort evaporated on the instant. Five was happy. That was all that mattered. Across the way, Rythian slid out of his chair like a silk scarf and crumpled up on the floor.

"You and me are still having that birthday sex, though," Five said.

Lalnable kissed her in return, tasting the icing lingering on her lips, tasting Rythian on them.

"But of course," he said.


	43. Chapter 42

"Panda's at YogLabs," Nano said, sitting down at the brand new breakfast table Trell had gotten ever since his flat had been declared the unofficial base of operations. Trell lifted his head up off the table and raised his eyebrows at her.

"That sounds definitive," he said.

"Hopefully," she said. She turned her computer around to face him. "I managed to pull the prisoner logs. This one here—Prisoner 18442, in cell C330—is _listed_ as having been picked up on May third last year. _But,_ I also pulled a cell roster that was last updated on the first of the month, and it lists cell C330 as being empty. I found an older version of the prisoner logs, from January, and there's no Prisoner 18442 listed."

"So they changed one number in the pickup date, and thought they'd get away with it?" Nilesy asked, frowning up at them from his spot on the floor. Granamyr had pinned him there shortly after dinner and had not yet allowed him to leave.

"They were probably covering their arses," said Fox, lounging in the papasan chair. _"Aw, we must've typed the number in wrong, soz mate, just a bitty clerical error._ Twats."

"That sounds likely," said Nano.

"Are we sure it's Panda?" Trell asked. "They could've made up a date for somebody else that just happened to fall in the window."

"They could," said Nano. "I'll have to do some more digging to make completely sure it's him. But it's promising."

"Assuming it _is_ Panda," said Fox. "What's our plan?"

"That's what we need to figure out," Nano said.

"How'd you manage it last time?" Nilesy asked. "Don't see that there's anything wrong with a repeat performance."

"I had inside help," Nano said, shrugging uncomfortably. "Rather a lot of it."

"What sort of inside help?" Trell asked. "And what, dare I ask, _last time?"_

"She broke me and Panda and Rythian out of YogLabs once before," Nilesy explained. "Though come to think of it, very little _breaking_ was involved, up until we got to Rythian."

"That'd be on account of the inside help," she said, avoiding looking at anybody. "In the form of a—a couple of Section L doctors."

Nilesy took a sudden interest in Granamyr, scratching him under his chin and watching him closely. His face was expressionless.

"They still about?" Fox asked.

"No," said Nano, glancing at Nilesy, "no, they're . . . they're pretty dead."

"Shame," said Fox. "Fortunately for us, _you're_ a Section L doctor."

"Yes, but I haven't got—" Nano began, and stopped.

"You haven't got what?" Trell asked.

Nano chewed her lip, frowning at her computer.

"I _was_ going to say I haven't got the same connections they had, but I don't think I need them," she said. "All they really did was make me a keycard and fuck with the cameras, and _I_ could do that."

"There's not like, guards or anything?" Fox asked, folding xyr arms. "You haven't got to make an appointment?"

"I didn't," said Nano. "But I'm not sure if that's standard procedure. They were . . . probably _deliberately_ unclear about what all they were doing to help."

"Don't forget the bit where they were telepaths capable of non-negligible amounts of mind control," Nilesy said.

"That . . . probably did come into it," Nano said.

"Maybe a bit," said Trell.

"Okay, more to the point: how long's it gonna take you to set everything up?" Fox asked.

"A couple of days?" Nano guessed. "It's a multi-step process."

"Couldn't Lalna just hack it?" Trell asked. "Once they've got their new Arc Reactor or whatever."

"Probably?" said Nano, squirming. "It's just. . . ."

"Fixing their power issues isn't going to fix their morality issues," Nilesy said.

"Yeah, good," said Fox. "Breaking people out of prison is pretty fuckin' immoral, innit."

"No, that's not what I'm worried about," said Nano. "I'm . . . _pretty_ sure Lalna will do just about anything if it's for the sake of rescuing friends. What I'm worried about is: if Five and Lalnable intended for Panda to end up in YogLabs, did they figure we'd just have Lalna get him back out? And did they, because of that, lay some kind of trap that's going to fuck them up again?"

"Now Lalna's got their schematics, does it matter?" Fox asked. "Even if they get fried again, they can just fix themself."

"In another five days," said Nano.

"Neither of them would've known that Lalna would've got the schematics at the time they locked Panda up," Nilesy said.

"But they know _now,"_ said Nano. "It's been a couple of days, I wouldn't be surprised if they've already got a contingency in place. _Especially_ considering that Lalna pulled one over on Lalnable, I can't imagine there's not going to be repercussions for that."

"Is it what you would've done?" Trell asked. "Laid a trap, I mean. If the situations were reversed."

"Well," said Nano, uncomfortable, "yes. We know Five's planning _something,_ and it's got to do with that mess at Strife Solutions. It's possible that all she's got to do now is stall for time."

"If they've just gone to a new location, there's got to be a reason," said Nilesy. "Something they couldn't do at the lab here?"

"Oy oy, we're getting ahead of ourselves," Fox said. "How do we find out, in advance, if somebody's left a little _kill yourself_ message for Lalna in the prison system?"

"I guess I could . . . look?" Nano said. "I'm pretty sure I remember what their command prompts look like. I could do a sweep for them."

"Grand, do that, then," said Fox. "Meanwhile, the _rest_ of us can try and work out where the baddies have gone off to. I assume that's the next step, yeah? After Panda's taken care of."

"In that case, if anybody needs me, I'll be in the corner with my headphones in," Nano said, picking up her computer and getting to her feet. "For focus."

"Cheers," said Trell, as she moved off and settled in the far corner of the room.

"So," said Fox. "If I was a couple homicidal maniacs bent on vengeance, where would I be? Nilesy, any ideas?"

"Why're you asking _him?"_ Trell demanded.

"'Cuz he _is_ a couple of homicidal maniacs," said Fox.

"Oh, come off it, leave him alone," said Trell.

"What? He said himself, at least _one_ of his alters thinks he can get in the baddies' heads. It's not like anybody in here _gives_ a fuck."

"I'd think _Nilesy_ might give a fuck."

"No, xe's right," Nilesy sighed. "You haven't got to stick up for me, I know what I did. At the very least we can try and make something useful out of it."

"Yeah, see?" said Fox, gesturing to him. "I calls 'em like I sees 'em. So what's the verdict? Got any insights kicking about in there?"

Nilesy made a face.

"YogLabs'd definitely be next on the list," he said. "I can't imagine they'd be terribly happy with their Strife Solutions plot getting foiled, so they'll probably be looking into why _that_ went wrong, too."

"Oh, grand," said Trell, rolling his eyes. "Just what I like best, being on the chopping block."

"Nah, you were barely involved!" said Fox. "Five's got no reason to hold a grudge against you in particular. She's way more likely to go after Strife or, like, the basement-dwellers who were sticking her with needles or whatever the fuck."

"Actually no, I think Trell's at the front of the line," said Nilesy. "On account of he got in the way. They'll be wanting to work out how the building got evacuated. I assume there's security cameras?"

"Closed circuit," said Fox. "But seeing as they apparently hacked YogLabs' cameras already, they've probably got Solutions Tower, too. You think they're onto you, Trell?"

"It wouldn't be hard to figure out," he said, folding his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. "Random custodian has a seizure, minutes later the security person he's hanging out with calls in a bomb threat."

"And then they check the random custodian's bank account and find he's been getting special bonuses from the head honcho himself, making him even more interesting," said Fox.

"No they don't," said Trell. "He pays me in cash and I keep it as cash. I'm not _stupid."_

"You keep tens of thousands of pounds lying about in _cash?"_ Fox said, incredulous. "That's pretty fucking stupid, Trelly Belly."

"I don't keep it _lying about,_ you ass," said Trell.

"What, d'you bury it in the woods?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Yeah, of course, 'cuz I'm obviously gonna rob you blind first chance I get."

"No, but you've been known to tell people things you shouldn't," Trell snapped, before he could stop himself.

"I've said a _billion_ times, I didn't fucking know Strife was gonna latch onto you!" Fox retorted. "Don't be such a little bitch about it, God."

"You don't fucking _out_ people, Fox! How would _you_ feel if I went about telling every _obviously transphobic_ old white man that—"

"Don't even _start_ with this shit," Fox cut him off. "It's not fucking comparable, all right? My _gender_ isn't gonna hurt anybody!"

"Neither are my Powers!"

"All right, what the fuck is everybody yelling about?" Nano demanded, yanking her earbuds out and glaring around the room.

"As per usual, Trell's being a little bitch and whinging about me following company policy," Fox said, glaring at him.

_"Company policy_ is fucking mutophobic twaddle and everybody who follows it is a piece of shit," Trell snapped. He was definitely going to have to skip back to un-have this argument anyway, so he might as well unload.

"And everybody who pitches a fit about normal people trying to keep their fucking jobs is a little _bitch,"_ Fox shot back.

"I really wish you wouldn't use that word," Nano said, her voice taut.

"What, _bitch?"_ said Fox, turning to her.

"That'd be the one," said Nano, glaring.

"How come?"

"Because I don't like it," said Nano.

"All right, whatever," said Fox. Xe turned back to Trell. "And _you,_ don't you go popping back to cover your arse, 'cuz I can _see_ you thinking about it. If you're gonna talk shit to me, you're gonna fucking deal with the consequences."

"I think we might be getting a bit off-topic," Nilesy said suddenly. His voice was shaking horribly, and when Trell looked over at him, there were tears in his eyes. He was holding Granamyr with both hands, like the cat was the only safe thing left in the world.

Trell's heart cracked in half. He bit his lip and looked down at the table. He took a deep breath.

"Fox," he said, "I'm sorry that I called you a piece of shit, and I'm sorry that I dragged your gender into it. It was rude and uncalled-for."

"What, having a sudden attack of maturity?" Fox demanded, folding xyr arms.

"I'm trying to make a fucking safe space for the abuse survivor in the room," Trell snapped. The irony of this delivery did not escape him, and he winced and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, it got out of hand, and I'm sorry, all right?"

Fox looked between Nano and Nilesy a couple of times before xyr eyes settled on Nilesy.

"The dead guy?" xe asked.

"Fox, not now," said Nano, her voice gone gentle. "Nilesy's right. There's more important things to talk about."

"Yeah, but—" Fox began, then stopped xemself. Xe made a face and rolled xyr eyes. "All right, fine. Sorry for calling you names, Trell. I get that I fucked up with the whole outing you thing, which is why I haven't done it since and I'm not going to do it again. All right? Are we good? Can we stop having fucking _feelings_ in here?"

Trell was about to point out to xem that annoyance counted as a feeling, but thought better of it.

"I'm good if you're good," he said.

"Fuck it, whatever, I'm good," said Fox. "What the fuck were we talking about?"

Nilesy had his eyes down and was petting Granamyr, his breathing slow and deliberate. He didn't say anything.

"No idea," said Nano. "I didn't tune in until the yelling started. Speaking of which, if nobody needs me, I'm going to tune out again."

"We were trying to work out where Five and Lalnable might hit next," Trell said. In the corner, Nano stuck her earbuds back in and refocused on her computer.

"Oh yeah," said Fox. "And the idea was—what, YogLabs?"

"I think that's about as far as we got, yes," said Trell.

"Fuckin' hell," Fox grumbled. "But look, if they were going to hit other places in Bristol, why'd they leave their lab? Unless _you_ went poking about and scared them off?"

"The thought never even crossed my mind," he said. "You'd think if anybody had found them, they would've just killed whoever it was."

"Yeah, seems like their M. O.," said Fox. "So it must've been some other reason."

"If they're making shitloads of super-mutagen, that probably requires a lot of space," said Trell.

"Obviously they'd already managed to make enough to spray down the Ivory Tower," said Fox. "YogLabs is bigger, sure, but it's not _that_ much bigger, right?"

"It's pretty big," said Trell. "There's like fifty different buildings on the campus."

"Oh," said Fox. "Yeah okay, fair enough. Sort of seems like the best place to make shitloads of super-mutagen would _be_ YogLabs, though."

Trell raised his eyebrows and blew out a breath through his lips.

"Well," he said, "if we're going to be extracting Panda, we might as well have a look about while we're there. They've fucked about in YogLabs before, maybe that was only phase one."

"Plus, then if they do something fucky like dump a shitload of super-mutagen in the water mains, they can just blame YogLabs and put a PR disaster on top of a regular disaster."

"That's true," said Trell. "Here's a question: how did they get Nano's old lab in the first place? Did that ever get figured out? Because maybe they've pulled the same trick again to get someplace else."

"Dunno," said Fox. "Oy, Nilesy, Nano or Lalna ever mention how that lab got snapped up?"

Nilesy swallowed and shook his head. His eyes were still fixed on Granamyr.

"Yep, well, okay," said Fox, annoyed. _"Oy! Nano!"_

Nano pulled out an earbud and gave xem a put-upon look. "What?" she said.

"How'd the baddies wind up with your old lab?"

"Lalnable requisitioned it pretty much immediately after we left," said Nano. "I re-checked the records yesterday. He's had it under the name _Al_ _le_ _n B._ _C_ _apek_ for nearly two years."

"That long?" said Trell, frowning. "What's he been doing there?"

"Yeah, I thought he only just got out of YogLabs," said Fox.

"Apparently not," said Nano. "I think the murder-slash-body-stealing was a return instead of an escape. Lalna might know why, but I don't."

"And you never like, _checked?"_ said Fox. "To see who was using your old lab?"

"I did," Nano said. "After Strife told me somebody'd snatched it up, I looked to see who it was. The name Capek didn't set off any warning bells, so I figured it was just . . . some regular old YogLabs scientist."

"Karel Capek coined the term _robot_ in the 1920's," Trell said. "I s'pose calling himself _Asimov_ might've been too on the nose."

"Aaaaand _Al_ _le_ _n B._ is L-N-B," said Fox. "So his alias is essentially _Robot Robot._ What is he, fourteen?"

"Seventeen, technically," said Nano. "If you count the developmental years. Four, if you don't."

"Grand," said Trell, rolling his eyes. "We're going to be murdered by _children_ _."_

"Has Mr. Capek requisitioned any other facilities lately?" Fox asked.

"I'll check as soon as I'm done making sure the prison software isn't going to blow out Lal's brains," Nano sighed.

"Right," said Fox. Xe stretched and cracked xyr neck. "That case, I think I'm gonna head home."

"Hang on, we've hardly worked out anything," said Trell.

"Yeah, and it's past midnight," said Fox. "I'm goin' home, 'cuz this is pointless. Walk me to my car?"

Trell threw his hands up and got to his feet. "All right," he said. "We'll update you in the morning, I s'pose."

"Update me on all the nothing you've got done, sure," said Fox, gathering up xyr things. Trell slipped a pair of shoes on, then followed xem out of the flat.

The walk to Fox's car was weirdly, uncomfortably quiet. There was an unpleasant energy radiating off of xem. It was dark and quiet outside, a light drizzle falling. Somebody was cooking curry, and the smell of it permeated the air. Trell and Fox's footsteps were loud in the midnight quiet. Fox stopped in front of xyr car and Trell's stomach curled up with dread.

"Trell," xe said, folding xyr arms and scowling at him. "D'you want to keep trying to make this work?"

"Make what work?" he asked, apprehensive.

"You and me," xe said. "This relationship. 'Cuz I sort of feel like you don't."

Blinking, he took a second to absorb this. "What have I done that's given you that impression?"

"Calling me a piece of shit, for one," said Fox. "And, for another . . . I sort of realized, I don't know how many times we've had an argument and you've popped back to un-have it. Like, you can say whatever the fuck you want to me without any consequences at all, and I'll never even know you've said it. I don't have that luxury, and I'm not sure I can be with somebody who does that. 'Cuz that's not putting effort into a relationship, that's fuckin' . . . reloading your saves until you get the right dialogue tree. It's manipulative and it's not fair."

"Well," said Trell, sick to his stomach. "I . . . won't do that, then."

"Have you done it before?" Fox asked.

"A couple of times," Trell admitted. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "From my perspective, it didn't seem like a—like it was manipulative. I did it because I'd say something that I hadn't meant to, and then skip back because I legitimately didn't want you to be hurt. I hadn't really . . . thought about what that would look like from your perspective. But I won't do it anymore."

"Yeah, maybe try just not saying shit that's so hurtful you've got to go back in time to un-say it," said Fox. "Or you could work on, I dunno, apologizing when there's _not_ an abuse survivor in the room. Y'know, as if you're actually sorry to _me_ for saying hurtful shit, instead of being sorry to _him_ for triggering him. And, y'know, I get it, I backed off too 'cuz I didn't want anybody to get caught in the crossfire, but . . . I'd like it if you tried a bit harder to not start shooting in the first place, yeah?"

Trell pinched his lips together and looked away, nodding.

"That's fair," he said. "I'll work on that." He took a deep breath. "Do _you_ want to keep trying?"

Fox sighed. "For now," xe said. "We'll see how it goes from here."

"All right," said Trell, though his chest was full of pain. "Fox, I'm . . . I'm sorry. I'll do better."

"I hope so," said Fox. Xe turned away from him and got into xyr car. Trell stood and watched xem drive away, until the last red of the taillights had vanished into the dark.

Sighing, he rubbed his face, eyes closed. He shook his head.

"Told you dating was a stupid idea," he muttered to himself.

Shoulders hunched, he shuffled back up to his flat. Nano was still in the corner, Nilesy still sat against the wall, now without Granamyr. Trell locked the door behind himself and went hunting in the fridge for something sweet to put in his mouth, hoping it would ameliorate the bitter taste left lingering there.

"Nano, are you heading out at any point?" he asked.

She didn't answer, and he glanced back at her. Both earbuds were back in, and she was focused on her computer. Trell made a face, then went back to his scavenging. Eventually he found a half-empty bag of chocolates and pulled them out. After a moment's consideration, he went and sat down near Nilesy, setting the bag between them.

"Er, just so it's clear," he said, "Fox and me are both all right."

Nilesy glanced at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He shook his head.

"Sorry," he said. "You haven't—you shouldn't have to reassure me. It's your relationship. I've got . . . nothing whatsoever to do with it. Not my business."

"Have a chocolate," said Trell. "It turns into your business when we start shouting at each other over your head."

Nilesy took a chocolate and unwrapped it carefully. He put it in his mouth without any sign of enjoyment. Trell took one for himself, in much the same state. For a while, neither of them spoke.

_"Are_ you all right?" Nilesy asked.

"I've been worse," said Trell, which was technically true.

"D'you want to talk about it?"

"Not at all," said Trell. "Are _you_ all right?"

He was silent for a moment, tugging absently on his hair, staring into the middle distance.

"Three of my exes are either missing or dead," Nilesy said quietly. "And the last conversation I had with all three of them—each of them—was a fight. The last things I said to all of them were said in anger."

"I'm sure they won't begrudge you that," said Trell. "Especially when you turn up to rescue them."

Nilesy shook his head, annoyed.

"I don't care what they think of me," he said. "I'm worried—what if they think what Nano thought, that I don't give a fuck about them? What if they're wherever they are, and they think . . . nobody's coming to save them?"

"Is that how you felt?" Trell asked.

With a self-deprecating smile, Nilesy bowed his head.

"S'pose I might be projecting a bit," he said.

Trell reached out to touch him, then stopped. He took another chocolate instead.

"You're not the only one out for them," he said. "Even _if_ they thought you weren't coming, there's Nano and Lalna."

"I know," Nilesy said. "But—"

There was a sudden, frantic knock at the door. Nilesy's head snapped up. Trell got to his feet and started for the door, and Nilesy scrambled up after him, caught him by the arm. Nano pulled out her earbuds and started to get up, concern pinching her face.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"You don't know who that is," Nilesy said to Trell, urgently. His hand was warm, his grip iron.

"If they shoot me, make sure I don't hit my head on anything an hour ago," Trell said. He shrugged out of Nilesy's grasp, although his heart was pounding, and went to the door. He didn't bother looking through the peephole. He unlocked the door and flung it wide open, because if he was going to get killed, he was going to look cool doing it.

Standing on the doorstep, dressed in white and vibrating in place, was Panda. He wasn't wearing his eyepatch, and Trell was shocked to see that he actually had two perfectly normal-looking eyes, although he was almost certain the one he'd seen before hadn't been that bright baby-blue. There was also a stocky, White ginger there, who looked nervous enough to cry. Panda darted inside, hauling the ginger behind him, and slammed the door shut. He locked it so quickly it sounded like castanets. He set his back against the door while the ginger cowered in the corner.

"You're not gonna fucking _believe_ the week I've had," Panda said.


	44. Chapter 43

"All right," said Panda. "Would you rather fight . . . a hundred duck-sized horses, or one horse-sized duck?"

"Horse-sized duck," Trott said immediately. "Bones're too fragile to support its size. Legs'd go like fuckin' toothpicks. Definition of the phrase _sitting duck._ Done. Easy."

 _"Assuming_ the duck could still do its ducking properly," said Panda.

"So if gravity suddenly halved?"

"I'd take the horses," said Jess. "Just go panther and let the cat-brain take over, that'd be top. I'll bet Trott's only after the duck 'cos he wants something aquatic."

 _"You_ try fuckin' chasing anything with four inches of blubber," he snapped. "Not _my_ fault I was built for Arctic seas."

"You weren't built for nothin', love," Jess said. "You'd freeze your tiny balls off in the Arctic."

"Yeah? Let's dump you in the middle of the Amazon and see how well your stupid cat-brain gets on. Hm? Won't be findin' many duck-sized horses in there!"

"Panda, what about you?" said Jess. "Horses or duck?"

"Uhhhhh, horses," he said.

"Fuck off," said Trott.

"The duck can fly," said Panda.

"No it can't! It's got too much body mass!"

"It's a magic duck that can fly," said Panda. "Anyway, I agree with Jess, chasing down a hundred tiny horses would be fucking amazing."

"Yeah, but there's no way they run faster than you," Garion piped up. "It'd be over like, super fast."

"Nobody _asked,_ Garry!" Trott said.

"Okay, fine," said Panda. "Garion, which'd _you_ rather fight: a hundred duck-sized horses, or one horse-sized duck?"

"Me?" Garion squeaked. "I don't wanna fight anything!"

 _"Laaaaaaame,"_ said Jess.

"Can't I just . . . adopt the tiny horses? _And_ the giant duck? I could ride it around like a dragon, or something."

"Yeah yeah," Panda sighed. "Jess, your go."

"Right," said Jess. There was a sound of cracking knuckles. "What Power would you want to have, other than the one you've got?"

"Ooh, good one," said Panda.

"Let's try literally any other Power," said Trott.

"What, you don't _like_ being half-walrus?" Jess teased. "I thought the mustache was very fetching. Plus, I'm sure _somebody_ must be into tusks."

"You've got _tusks?"_ Panda said. He leaned his head up against the glass and peered across the corridor. His vision hadn't improved much in the past five days, and he could still only make out a couple of brown smudges in Trott's cell—most of him was indistinguishable from the background because of the white prison uniforms. Jess showed up as a much darker brown, even more difficult to distinguish because she was farther away. He'd never seen Garion, and wasn't likely to any time soon.

On the other hand, he _could_ see things that were close to his face, like his hands or the glass front of his cell. They were a little blurry, and were only really in focus when they were within about a foot of him, but he took this as a good sign.

"They're not very impressive," said Jess.

"Fuck you, they're like six inches!"

"Closer to four."

"I'd say like, five-ish," said Garion.

"Shut _up,_ Garry," Trott said.

"It was a compliment!"

"Don't compliment me! What makes you think you've got the right to fuckin' compliment me?"

"I'd be an alchemist," Panda said. "Just fuck up whole rooms of people at once. And swindle them, by like, turning shitty plastic jewelry into gold, selling it off, then fucking running like hell before it turned back."

"Shit, that's fuckin' good," said Jess. "God, I dunno what I'd go with. There's so many options. Pyrokinesis, maybe."

Panda shuddered. "Christ, speaking of fucking things up on a massive scale," he said.

"The Division has a pyrokinesthete," Garion chimed in. "I designed his suit, it was a real challenge."

 _"Had,"_ said Panda. "He's like, _super_ fucking dead now."

"Why are you always telling me people I know are dead!" Garion cried.

"Because everybody you know is dead," Panda said. "And they were all arseholes, as well. Sjin got what was coming to him, you ask me."

"I _didn't_ ask you," Garion sniffed. There was a pause, and then he added, "But he _was_ kind of a jerk."

"Trott, your go," said Jess.

"Would you rather fuck an octopus bimorph or a dog bimorph?" he asked.

"Oh, _ew!"_ Garion exclaimed, distraught. Panda burst out laughing.

"Trott, you're fuckin' disgusting," said Jess. "I'm assuming we're talking static bimorphs?"

"Whatever your preference," Trott said sleazily. "But if you're talking dynamic, it's gotta be when they're _not_ human. Otherwise it don't count."

"So what you're asking is: furries versus bestiality," said Panda.

"Oy, it's not fuckin' bestiality if it's a bimorph," Jess cut it. "There've been court rulings."

"Plus, what I _asked_ was: octopus or dog?" Trott said.

"Okay, what sort of dog?" said Jess.

"This is so gross," Garion moaned, his voice muffled.

"Do static octopus bimorphs even exist?" Panda asked.

"You know what don't fuckin' exist, Panda?" Trott snapped. "Fuckin' horse-sized ducks! Didn't fuckin' stop you, did it!"

"Fine, dog," said Panda.

 _"_ _Furryyyyyyyyy_ _!"_ Trott crowed. "We caught one, boys! Call the RSPCA!"

"Fuck off, _you're_ a fucking furry!"

"Yeah," said Trott. "Got to be. You know how big a walrus's _dick_ is, sunshine?"

"Holy shit, d'you fuck walruses?" Jess asked.

"No, I—what? No, I was talking about _me,_ and how my entire fuckin' dating pool's got to consist of—hey, fuck you, actually, all right? Fuck you."

"Nah, you're not my type," said Jess. "I'd take the octopus. Assuming she wouldn't drown me."

"So that's one for furries and one for hentai."

"I swear on my life, Trott," Jess sighed.

"Garry?" Trott leered.

 _"No,"_ said Garion. "No, I'm not answering this! You guys didn't want to hear my answers to the other stuff, so I'm not answering this one, because you'll just make fun of me more!"

"Gotta break the tie, sunshine," said Trott.

 _"You_ could break the tie," Panda pointed out.

"Nah, 'cause my answer's _both,"_ Trott said.

"At the same time?" Jess drawled.

"Yeah," said Trott, enthused.

 _"Ugh,"_ said Garion.

"C'mon, Garion, fess up," said Jess.

"No, look, leave him alone," said Panda. "It's not that important."

"He wants to be all buddy-buddy with us, he's gotta play the game like everybody else," Trott said.

"If _I'd_ told you I didn't want to answer, you wouldn't've shit on _me_ for it," Panda said.

"Would too," said Trott.

"Yeah, we would've," said Jess.

"I-it's okay, Panda, I can—I can answer, I mean, it's really not fair if I don't," said Garion.

"Hold that thought," Jess said, her voice gone suddenly serious. "Guards incoming."

"Places, everybody," Panda said.

He shut his eyes and held his breath, vibrating in place until his skin went hot and sweaty. He toppled over onto the floor, imagining the fruity taste on his breath, the swollen sensation, the stabbing pains. As he heard the guards approaching, he slapped one palm against the glass, leaving a smear.

"Help!" he called feebly. "Help, please!"

The footsteps pulled up in front of his cell. He looked up, barely making out the vague shapes of two gray-clad guards.

"I'm—please," he gasped. "I'm diabetic, I need—I need insulin, or I'm gonna die, please—"

"Uh-huh," said one of the guards. "You'll get it next time Medical comes through."

"No, please," Panda said, real desperation underpinning his words. "I can't—my eyes're all fucked up, I can't see—"

"And you'll get your medicine when Medical comes through," the guard said, patronizing.

"Are you guys _stupid?"_ Garion piped up suddenly.

"You be quiet," the other guard snapped.

"He's in diabetic ketoacidosis, he's seriously gonna die if you don't do something, like, _right now,"_ Garion said. "You wanna explain to Dr. Vox why you let one of his serum patients _die_ right under your noses?"

"I said, be _quiet,"_ the second guard said. There was a ripping noise, like velcro being torn open.

"Look, I-I used to be like you guys," Garion said, his voice squeaking with fear. "I mean, I designed those uniforms you're wearing, with the special kevlar weave? And now I'm locked up down here with the mutants, because I got on the Board's bad side! Look at him, guys, this is a medical emergency!"

"You can't even see him," said the second guard.

"Oy, maybe he's got a point, though," said the first, uncomfortable. "He really doesn't look so good. Maybe we'd better call it in."

"Please," Panda mumbled. He thumped weakly on the glass again.

"Yeah, sure," said the second. "What if it's a trick?"

"Then we tase him, hand him to Medical, and forget to ask for him back," said the first. "Call it in."

"Okay," the second said dubiously. There was a screech of walkie-talkie static, and then they said, "This is Edwards, from C-block security, we've got a prisoner with a medical emergency.Requesting medical team to C330."

The walkie-talkie squawked again, and then a staticky voice responded, _"Acknowledged,_ _Edwards_ _._ _That'd be—prisoner 18442?"_

"Correct."

 _"And_ _what is the nature of the emergency?"_

"Uhhh, diabetic . . . something or other—"

"Ketoacidosis," Garion said.

"Ketoacidosis, apparently," Edwards said through their teeth.

 _"_ _Medical's requesting_ _a symptom check._ _18442_ _is_ _listed as diabetic, but they want to be sure._ _"_

"Well, he's gone all sweaty," said Edwards. "Looks like some abdominal pain in there, shivering pretty hard. Told me he couldn't see."

"He's been throwing up a lot, too," Garion added helpfully.

"All right, that's enough," said the first guard. "No more out of you."

"Yessir!" Garion squeaked.

 _"_ _Seems like_ _it checks out,"_ said the walkie-talkie. _"_ _They've got a team on the way_ _."_

"Thanks," said Edwards. "We'll wait here for them."

Panda pressed his forehead to the floor to hide his grin. He dry-heaved and pretended to choke it back down, just for the sake of staying in character.

"Jesus," the other guard mumbled. "How'd they fuck this up?"

"Maybe the dumb shit's been refusing his medicine," said Edwards. "They do that, sometimes. Trying to kill themselves. Most of the time they get cold feet."

"Nobody's given him anything," Garion said. "It's been days."

"That's enough," the first guard said.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help . . . Marras," Garion said.

"Don't read his name tag," Edwards said.

"Why would he have a name tag if people weren't supposed to read it?" Garion asked.

"Prisoner, you will keep _quiet_ or you will be dealt with," Edwards growled.

"He's not hurting anybody," Marras said, begrudgingly. "Leave him alone. Rare enough to get one who's not braindead or feral."

"Are you having a laugh?" Edwards asked. "You don't fucking talk to prisoners, Marras. _How_ long've you been working here?"

"I'm only _saying,_ I'm not going to tase the little bastard just because he's gone chatty," said Marras.

"Obviously not that long, then," said Edwards. "If you'd been here when Lying was in charge, you'd've been fired in a week. Everybody's gone soft since the new Board came in, even Strife's cronies."

"Yeah, well my husband and kids appreciate their leniency," Marras said stiffly.

"Yeah? _My_ husband and kids liked it better when I got to tase freaks on a regular basis, but you don't see _me_ dragging _them_ up."

Panda pretended to throw up again. He clenched a fist, imagining that Edwards' throat was in it.

"If your husband shot you through the head, I'd pay his bail," said Marras.

"That's 'cos you're a misogynist, Marras," said Edwards.

"No, it's just you," Marras said, gritting his teeth.

Before the two of them could escalate to physical violence, there was a rattling noise and a fleet of hurried footsteps.

"This him?" someone asked, breathless.

"That's him," said Edwards.

"Please," Panda mumbled. "I'm not—I don't feel right, please. . . ."

"All right, move away from the door, prisoner," said Marras.

"I can't," Panda moaned, shaking his head.

"Move _away,_ or you will not be treated," said Marras.

Panda crawled half a foot back and then collapsed in fake pain. He whimpered.

"Good enough, crack it open," said another new voice.

"Marras," Edwards said. "I'll hold the taser on him."

"Of course," Marras muttered. Panda watched the blurry shapes of the guards' boots out of the corner of his eye. He counted two, maybe three extra pairs of legs from the medical personnel.

Marras stepped up to Panda's cell. There was a loud beep, a click, and the glass slid up and away like a theater curtain. Panda stayed on the floor, waiting, waiting. There was a footstep. A hand took his arm.

Showtime.

Panda launched himself off the floor. The top of his head slammed into Marras' chin. He launched off his shoulders. A bright flash of light accompanied a loud _bang._ Something went _zwipp_ as it sailed past his ear. His shoulder slammed into the center of Edwards' chest. Both of them hit the ground. Panda grabbed her head in both hands and twisted.

The wet _crack_ as her neck snapped was immensely satisfying.

Someone yelled out. Panda hurled himself at the sound. He crashed into a medical cart. A blurry hand reached out for him. He grabbed the wrist and yanked. There was a _pop_ as the shoulder dislocated. He slammed his elbow into the face above it with a _crunch._

The cart toppled over, slow enough that Panda knew it was coming but too fast for him to do much about it. He pushed off at the last second. The cart slammed into the shins of the other nurse. Panda bounced off the wall and drove his knee into their gut. They folded. He pummeled them in the head until they stopped twitching.

For a moment, there was quiet. Panda stood there panting, looking down at the blurry shapes on the floor. He didn't hear any footsteps and assumed nobody was running off to sound the alarm. Nonetheless, it wouldn't be long until somebody noticed.

"Uh," said Garion, "what just _happened?"_

Panda went to Edwards' corpse and rooted around in her pockets until he found a keycard. He felt his way along the wall to Garion's cell and tapped the card against the reader. Inside, he could see little more than a shock of red hair. He tossed the card inside.

"Let Jess and Trott out," he said. "We're not gonna have loads of time."

"I—uh—what—" Garion stammered. Panda rolled his eyes and darted back to Marras, fishing the card out of his pocket. Marras groaned. There was blood, bright red, staining his face.

"Stay down," Panda whispered.

Marras stilled, and did not make any more noise. Panda took his keycard and then, because it seemed wiser, his taser as well. He then went to Jess and Trott's cells and let them out, too.

"Here," he said, foisting the keycard into Jess' hand. She was already completely nude. "Should get you up to the front guard booth."

"Won't be a mo," said Jess, and stuck the card in her mouth. There was a silken sound, and her whole form shifted, toppling over into something sleek and black and quadrupedal. Sheshook herself, then loped off down the corridor.

"Oy, Garry, gimme the other one," Trott said, lumbering out of his cell. He was easily three times Panda's size, though barely six inches taller, and did indeed appear to have massive tusks protruding from his top lip.

"Okay!" Garion squeaked. Trott clapped Panda on the shoulder on his way back from Garion's cell.

"Nice plan, sunshine," he said.

"It's not over yet," said Panda. "Good luck, by the way."

"We'll rustle up some sheepdogs to herd everybody else out of here," Trott said. "Just don't fuck 'em 'til afterwards, ya filfy bastard."

"Fuck you," said Panda.

"Still counts," said Trott, waggling his bushy eyebrows. He trundled off down the corridor, yelling at the top of his voice for anybody coherent to answer. Panda turned back and went into Garion's cell.

"Okay well great job good luck I hope the rest of the plan goes good—" Garion said, scrambling back along the cell floor. Panda grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. Garion yelped like a kicked dog.

"You're gonna be my eyes," Panda said. "First order of business, come here."

He dragged Garion out of the cell and to the overturned medical cart. He knelt down, pulling Garion with him.

"We're looking for a pale yellow liquid, probably in little vials, probably labeled _B714-LE."_

"The—the serum?" Garion asked.

"I'm getting my eyesight back before anything else," Panda said. "And I'm pretty sure it's going to take the serum to do it."

"Won't—wait, won't there be guards and stuff coming?" Garion asked.

"Yeah, so _hurry up,"_ said Panda.

They only managed to rifle through the overturned cart for about a minute before a siren blared out and bright lights started flashing all down the corridor.

"That's our cue!" Panda said, leaping to his feet. Once again, he yanked Garion upright, and once again, Garion shrieked. "We're going to Medical through the A Block. I mostly know the way, but it might be tough going, and I'll need you to tell me if there's guards coming up."

"What about—what—why _me?"_ Garion stammered, his voice cracking.

"Because I can carry you," Panda said, putting a hand on the back of Garion's head and pulling him in close. "Don't worry, I'll go slow. Ish."

"Wait no don't my reflexes aren't that faaa _aaaaaaaa—!"_

* * *

 

The first set of guards they encountered nearly killed them.

Garion shrieked incoherently, much too late—it was only Panda's instinct to zig-zag that caused the taser to miss its mark. He dropped Garion and threw himself at the bundle of gray smudges. He went through them like bowling pins. Something cracked across his back. He lashed out and was gratified to feel bone break against his heel.

The next taser hit him in the chest. Pain lanced through him as all his muscles locked up. Someone hit him in the head so hard his vision went white. He couldn't move. He couldn't get up.

Fucking _again._

Garion shouted suddenly, his voice cracked in three places. There was a loud _crack_ and then a rapid clicking noise. Someone fell over. Garion screamed. There were running footsteps. Panda struggled to get his limbs underneath him. He was hit in the head again. He grabbed for the weapon. Speed outdid precision and his hand closed on a thick wooden cudgel. Snarling, he struck out with it in all directions. He was too weak to do any damage, his muscles all gone to water. The cudgel was snatched back from him.

There was a loud, grating buzzer. Gears turned, electronics whirred. Everything went still.

"Do. Not. Move," someone whispered.

There was a footstep, and then another. A low murmur kicked up. There was motion all up and down the corridor, slow and cautious, white-on-white.

Panda hit the guard next to him as hard as he could.

It was like a dam had burst. Four people leapt onto the guard simultaneously, bowling them to the ground in a screaming heap. Panda scrambled away just before the blood starting flying. People shuffled and staggered down the corridor. He fought his way up the current to Garion, who he had to drag away from the bright red mess of another guard.

"I—I—" Garion stammered, his eyes huge and horrified.

"Hang on to me," Panda said.

Garion's hands gripped his forearm, cold and shaking. Panda moved with the flood of prisoners, towards the elevators. Before he got there, there was a tremendous crash that made the lights flicker. Some people started running. They were all just smears of color to Panda, browns and tans and sometimes less fleshy tones, all clad in white. The corridor got dustier as they went, and when they reached the elevators, Panda could see why.

Someone had torn the doors off of the emergency stairs. People were flooding up them from lower levels, shouting and whooping and snarling and whimpering. Panda joined the tide and Garion clutched him even tighter as the currents of humanity tried to rip them apart. From above, there were worrisome noises—crashes and bangs, screams and roars. He and Garion were buffeted by the crowd, and Panda gripped the handrail of the stairs almost as tightly as Garion gripped his arm, trying not to trip over stairs he couldn't see lest he be trampled.

"I don't think we're gonna be able to get to Medical," Garion said, as the press of the crowd grew ever tighter. They'd passed the second floor and were nearly at the first. The sounds of fighting were louder now. Panda's hands itched for the grip of a knife, or any kind of weapon at all, for all the good it would do him. He chewed his cheeks. Up above, something exploded, and dust rained down from the ceiling. There was a collective flinch, and then a speeding up that nearly knocked Panda off his feet.

"I think you're right," he said, though the words were bitter. "We'd better just . . . get out of here."

"Okay," said Garion. "How're we gonna do that?"

"As soon as we're out in the open, look for any sort of holes in the fence and point me at them," said Panda.

Garion gulped.

"Okay," he said.

The first floor passed, and then the ground floor, and then suddenly they were bursting out into a warm night, swarming with people and noise. It was utter chaos. Helicopters buzzed overhead. Spotlights stabbed down like the legs of alien tripods. People were running, yelling, swarming in all directions. Garion clung to Panda and Panda clung to him, unable to see anything but a frantic blur, like an impressionist painting gone mad. Things were exploding. Masonry cracked and broke. The earth trembled and heaved. Gunshots popped off, deafening. Everyone was running and shapes were swooping down from the black sky like hawks and there were lights and sounds and the smell of blood and sulfur.

Suddenly, there was a tremendous shaking of the earth, and something huge and brown came barreling towards Panda and Garion. Garion screamed and Panda shoved him to the ground, coming down on top of him. Mud sprayed his back and something snuffled at his head. There was a silken sound.

"Panda," Fiona said.

Panda lifted his head, gawping. Fiona stared down at him, wearing only her Division badge and a thick leather pouch on a cord around her neck.

 _"Fiona?"_ he said. "What—what are you—"

"Helping," she said. With a shivering of the flesh and that same silken sound, she swelled up and burst out in brown fur. A massive grizzly bear crouched in her place and bent its shoulder to Panda.

After only a moment of shock, he hauled Garion up out of the mud and hoisted him onto Fiona's back, then scrambled up after him. He fisted both hands in the coarse fur.

"Go!" he cried.

Fiona lurched to her feet and loped off, scattering prisoners and guards alike. She tore around buildings, through the chaos, while gunfire and flashing lights went off all around them. Something smacked into her side and she grunted, shaking her hide. She thundered out into a car park and crashed through a gate chest-first, reducing it to splinters. Her claws screeched on the asphalt as she charged out into the darkness.

For several minutes, she ran, through alleyways and cross-streets, until finally she slowed and stopped, her chest heaving like a bellows. Panda got down off of her back and helped Garion down, too. With another full-body rouse, Fiona shifted back to her human form. There was a stain of red on her shoulder, and something went _plink_ on the ground as she changed back.

"I've got to get back," she said, breathless. "They called in the Division to stop it, but I'm not having any of that. We're getting as many people out as we can, it'll minimize casualties on both sides. D'you have somewhere to go?"

"I—I think so, yeah," said Panda.

Fiona dug in the pouch around her neck and handed him a phone.

"Make sure it gets back to me," she said. "Later you're gonna tell me how and when they got you, so I know whose head to crunch. Right now, I've gotta go."

"Go," said Panda. "And—thank you."

"It was about fucking time," Fiona said.

She heaved back into her bear form and loped away, back towards the chaos of YogLabs. Panda handed the phone to Garion, who accepted it with shaking hands.

"We're going to a complex on Waterloo Street," he said. "And we're gonna be going pretty fast."

Garion took a deep breath, and then sniffled, and then cleared his throat.

"Okay," he said.

"Yeah, but before we go," Panda said. "Dog or octopus?"

"Are— _seriously?"_

"Seriously."

"I—well—I—dog, okay? It—that's—it'd be dog!"

"Fuck yeah," said Panda, grinning.


	45. Chapter 44

Nilesy was across the room and grabbing Panda by the shoulders before any conscious thought could even arise.

"Oh my God!" he cried, at an absolute loss.

"Niles!" Panda said, shocked and jubilant, clasping Nilesy's shoulders as well. "You're okay! You're back!"

"I'm—yeah!" said Nilesy, laughing. He touched Panda's face, palm to his left cheek. "What's this about, then? You've got _two eyes!_ _"_

"Right?" said Panda. "It's fuckin' _wild!_ Nah, Lalnable fucked me up and called up YogLabs and they chucked me in prison and I broke out and now _everyone's_ out because we busted the gates open and I was paralyzed and like _totally_ blind for a bit but they fixed it, I _think_ they scooped out one of my eyes and I still can't see great but—"

 _"Garion?"_ Nano cut in.

"Hi," somebody said, and Nilesy noticed the other person for the first time.

"Oh yeah! And this is Garion, he used to work for Kirin but he got chucked in prison for being a decent human being and—"

"Wait. One _second,"_ said Trell, holding up a finger. He had his eyes closed, brows pinched together. "Did I hear you say that _everyone_ had been broken out of YogLabs?"

"Yeah, it was fucking _mental,"_ Panda said. "You should've seen it! I mean, _I_ didn't, but God, the _noise!_ It's chaos out there—well not like, _here_ out there, but closer to YogLabs. Fiona got us out, she had the whole Division like, _helping_ _—_ _"_

"Okay, all right, let's—take this from the top," Nano said. She came over and stood near Trell, looking between Panda and Garion. "First of all, are either of you hurt?"

Nilesy finally recovered enough presence of mind to realize that he was still clinging to Panda. He took his hands off him and stepped back, clearing his throat and straightening his shirt. Panda let him go, not without a certain amount of reluctance.

"I'm not," said Panda. "Apart from I can't really see much of anything that's more than a foot away, but that's not new. My eyes aren't totally back together, I think. Garion, you okay?"

"Y-yeah," Garion said mousily. He was slouching, his arms folded tightly over his chest. There was blood spattered on his white YogLabs prison uniform. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"Good," said Nano. "Panda: _where is Lomadia?"_

Panda stilled. The vibrant energy of him went dark, like a light snuffed out. He swallowed and looked at his feet.

"I don't know," he said. "We got . . . I got this call, from. . . ."

He glanced at Nilesy.

"From Lalnable, pretending to be Zylus," said Nilesy. "And then you got ambushed on the road to Birmingham. We've managed to work that much out."

Panda nodded. "He blew out one of our tires and then just . . . I dunno. It all happened really fast, and that's coming from me. He . . . he like, snapped my neck. I couldn't move, or anything. Lom tried to fight him, but—I dunno, I think he must've drugged her, or something, and then he shot off one of his lasers right into my eye and then he was just . . . gone. Somebody called—fuck, what was his name—Vox, somebody called Vox from YogLabs came and picked me up like _hours_ later, and they put me in a van and knocked me out, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up under YogLabs with two eyes and my spine all in one piece again. I dunno what happened to Lomadia, I—I think Lalnable must've taken her. Somewhere. Sorry."

Nano took a deep breath. She let it out again.

"Well," she said. "At least _you're_ all right. I was . . . worried you might've been dead. We thought you might have been at YogLabs, and we were going to come get you, but—apparently somebody else got there first."

"Not really," Garion volunteered. "Panda did it pretty much all himself. It was amazing, he like, made this whole plan with faking a major case of the DKAs and—and—yeah. Mass escape. Like he said. So now . . . that's happening. Things were looking pretty ugly when we left."

"At YogLabs?" Nano said, her voice fragile.

"Yeah?" Panda guessed. "Why, what's wrong with that?"

 _"Lalna's at YogLabs,"_ Nano said.

"It'll be on the news," Trell said. He moved off and started hunting around the papasan chair. He came up with a remote and turned on the TV. Within moments, he'd found a news channel, broadcasting a view of YogLabs from a helicopter.

It was a hellscape.

Multiple buildings were on fire. Bodies littered the ground, some in pieces. Crowds of white-clad prisoners flowed like schools of fish, harried by guards in gray or shepherded by sparks of color that must have been Division officers. The power was out across a huge swath of Bristol in the background, but distant flashes of flame and electricity and searchlights cracked open the night intermittently.

The banner at the bottom of the screen hammered the point home. In all caps, stark against a yellow background, it read, _YOGLABS ESCAPE: YLPID OVERWHELMED._ And beneath that: _Stay inside – Do not_ _engage_ _– Turn off light_ _s and electronics_ _._

"Lal, are you okay?" Nano said suddenly. Nilesy pried his gaze off the TV to see Nano pacing in the kitchen, phone clutched to her ear. "I've just heard about YogLabs, are you safe?"

There was a pause. Nano's face went waxen.

"Oh," she said. "S-sure. That's . . . okay. We'll—we'll wait for you here, then. Um. . . . Yes, he was there, and he's . . . also here, now. Why?"

"That sounds less than ideal," Panda whispered to Nilesy.

"Lal's been a bit off ever since I got back," Nilesy said.

"Yeah, actually," said Nano. "How did you—never mind, it's not important."

"They were a bit off before then, too," said Panda. "We had to shut them down."

"Nano told me," Nilesy said. "From what I've seen, it's gotten even worse since they woke back up."

"Right," said Nano. "We'll—see you in a bit, then. Bye."

"What was all that about?" Trell asked.

"Um," Nano said. She turned her phone over in her hands and swallowed. "They finished their new power core just before the break out, and . . . managed to get away from YogLabs without getting hurt. Apparently they took some of the serum on their way out, because they figured we'd need it. They told me— _reassured_ me—that they'd only killed anybody who tried to stop them."

"Ah," said Nilesy, a sinking feeling in his gut. "That's . . . fair enough?"

"Jesus Christ," said Panda. "Do they mean guards, or—or Divisioners, or—"

"I think they meant _anybody who tried to stop them,"_ Nano said, fragile.

"Oh, jeez," Garion whispered.

Nano turned to him and asked, "Garion, do you have anywhere to go? Friends, family, anything?"

"Me? Oh, uh, I don't . . . I don't actually know. I mean I guess I probably don't have an apartment anymore, because I've been . . . kind of, in prison for six months, so . . . no. I don't have anywhere to go."

Trell heaved a sigh. _"Fine,_ we've got room for one more. But I'm warning you, if you keep picking up strays like this, you're going to have to start keeping them at your place. Is Lalna coming here, too?"

"They are," said Nano.

"Grand, fantastic, I'm having a bloody lie down," Trell said, and promptly dropped onto the bed and turned his back on all of them with a catlike petulance.

"Iiiiii'm not sure I want to be here," Garion said, fidgeting. "For that. When the—the person who's been killing people who got in the way . . . gets here."

"Join the fucking club!" Trell shouted.

"You'll be safer here than just about anywhere else," Nano said. "The rest of us can handle Lalna if things get out of hand."

"Mmm, no, I don't think you probably can," said Garion. "I mean, I never really like, _saw_ any of their training simulations? But I-I-I was kind of a fly on the wall for some . . . discussions. With, like, Kirin and Xephos? It's bad, Nano. It's like . . . i-if Lalna's gone bad, it's like, _really_ bad news."

"Yeah, uh, hi," said Panda, waving. "I _actually_ got into a fight with their _actually_ evil twin brother, and I'm still here, aren't I?"

"He super could've killed you," Garion said.

"Well," said Panda. "Well, yeah, I _guess,_ but he didn't, did he. Anyway, Niles and me have taken down Lalna before, we can do it again if we've got to. _And,_ they're almost out of power, so it's not like they can shoot our heads off, can they."

"Not until we put the new power core in," Nilesy said.

"Don't _help!"_ Panda cried, affronted.

"Panda," Nilesy said, "it's _bad."_

"See?" said Garion. "Look, it's not that I don't like you guys, and it's not that I'm not _super_ grateful, but—y'know, I think I'll take my chances? Instead of being here when the—when Lalna shows up?"

"If things are going to go wrong, we'll have advance warning," Nano said.

On the bed, Trell raised his head, glaring over his shoulder.

"Uh, how?" said Garion.

"We've got some other friends looking out for us," Nilesy said, stepping in before anybody could out Trell. "Whether you're leaving or not, though, I'd imagine you'll be needing a change of clothes. The both of you."

Panda looked down at himself and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah," he said, "but I don't think anything here's going to fit me. _Or_ Garion."

"Fox has got a few sets of spare clothes here," Trell said. "Under the circumstances, I don't think xe'll mind too much if you borrow them."

"Oh," said Garion, perking up considerably. "Um. If you think that'd be okay."

"If it's not, I'll make sure I'm the only one getting yelled at," Trell muttered. He heaved himself up out of the bed and started rooting around in the chest of drawers under the television.

Garion, eyes darting, sidled around the group of them and edged up to Trell. There was a brief, whispered exchange that ended with Trell giving him a thumbs-up and Garion sagging with relief. Shortly thereafter, Trell handed him a bundle of clothes, and Garion went off to the bathroom to change.

"What was that about?" Nilesy asked.

"Just particulars," said Trell. "Panda, I s'pose I'll pick you out something so you don't look like you got dressed in the dark?"

"I'm not _blind,"_ Panda said. "I mean, I'm—not _that sort_ of blind, anyway."

"Should I put _This End Up_ arrows, then?" said Trell, making a face that Nilesy could only describe as _cutely supercilious._

"Hardy-harr," said Panda, picking his way across the room with both arms halfway extended. "I could kick your arse with both eyes tied behind my back."

"Eugh," said Trell.

"You know what I meant," said Panda. He stuck out a hand and Trell foisted a second bundle of clothes on him.

"You might want to wait until Garion's done in the—and you're just—okay," said Trell, as Panda stripped out of his YogLabs whites.

"Turn your back if you're uncomfortable, I don't give a fuck," said Panda, pulling a black t-shirt on over his head. Nilesy pretended he wasn't watching, but he didn't pretend particularly hard.

"Does he do this often?" Trell asked.

"Far, far too often," Nano said, exhausted.

Shortly thereafter, Garion emerged from the bathroom looking much more settled in his own skin. He had his hands in his pockets and was still slouching, but to a lesser degree than before. He agreed to stay at least until the situation at YogLabs had blown over, mostly because Panda wheedled him with warnings of getting caught by roving gangs of escaped prisoners.

About half an hour after that, Lalna arrived.

They knocked politely, and Trell let them in after a cautious look through the peephole. They carried a plastic box in their hands, about the size of a toaster. The lights in their eyes were turned off, and they moved with an unsettling, mechanical efficiency.

"I've got about ten minutes left, after all that stuff at YogLabs," they said, moving into the center of the room. They handed the box to Nano. "The core's in there, and about a hundred mils of serum. It's probably best if I shut down _before_ my power runs out, so I can close out of everything properly."

"Okay," said Nano. She took a deep breath. "What do you need from me?"

"Just for you to take out the old power core and put the new one in," said Lalna. "Don't worry about disposing of it, I'll handle that once I'm back up."

"All right," said Nano. "Thank you for . . . trusting me. With this."

"Well, I haven't really got much of a choice, have I," Lalna said mildly. They sat down on the floor and lay back.

"I . . . guess you haven't," Nano admitted.

Lalna raised a hand and waved to Panda.

"Hi, Panda," they said. "You didn't used to have blue eyes. I'm going to ask you about that when I wake back up."

"Uh," said Panda. "Sure."

They turned their gaze to Garion. "I don't know you," they said. "If you're still here when I wake back up, somebody'll have to introduce us."

"Okay?" Garion squeaked, trying to press himself back through the wall.

"Cool," said Lalna. "Well, goodnight, everybody. I'll see you in a bit."

"G'night, sib," Nilesy said, trying not to be stung by their total lack of acknowledgement of his presence.

Lalna fell into a death-like stillness as the low hum of them spun down to silence. For a moment, nobody moved or spoke.

"I hate this," Nano said quietly. Nilesy looked over and was started to see tears on her face. "I _hate_ this."

"It'll be better once their new power core's in," said Panda.

"What if it's _not?"_ Nano said.

"Then it waits until Rythian and Lomadia are safe," said Nilesy.

Nano sighed and rubbed her face.

"This doesn't feel like a win," she said. "This feels wrong. It's too easy. There's another shoe up there somewhere."

"Well _I'm_ still standing," Trell said. "So obviously it's not going to go pear-shaped in the next hour."

Garion, biting his lips, looked between her and Trell, but didn't say anything. Nilesy was beginning to understand how he'd managed to be present for important and private conversations, and it seemed to be mainly by virtue of people forgetting he was there. This, he thought, was a cultivated skill.

"Right," said Nano. "Right. I'll . . . get to work, I s'pose. Nowhere to go but forward."

"Except to bed," said Panda. "I'm fucking _exhausted._ Trell, have you got anywhere I can knock off?"

"Wherever," Trell said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I won't be sleeping for a bit. Hate waking up seizing."

"Super," said Panda, and promptly colonized the papasan chair.

Nano sat down by Lalna and opened up the plastic box. Garion wedged himself into the corner and shrank down very small, while Trell went to recline on the bed and switched the TV back on, watching the developing news with a disaffected expression.

After a great deal of consideration and planning, Nilesy settled down on the floor near the head of the bed. Granamyr crept out from underneath it and slunk into his lap.

"Thought you might," Nilesy murmured.

Granamyr dug in his claws and started purring.

* * *

 

At some point, Nilesy must have fallen asleep, because he found himself waking up. The TV was playing some cheesy old sci-fi show, and Nano was still bent over Lalna's chest. Panda and Garion both appeared to be asleep, while Trell was nowhere to be seen. Granamyr had gone on to softer pastures and was splayed out on the bed.

"How's it going?" Nilesy asked, stretching his back and shoulders.

"Slowly," Nano sighed. She held up a white cylinder in each hand, demonstrating. "I'm making some comparisons. For safety's sake."

"Good plan," said Nilesy. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Where's Trell gone off to?"

"Outside," said Nano. "For fresh air, apparently."

"Hm," said Nilesy. Creakily, he got to his feet. His knees were sore, and his left foot had gone to sleep. He shook the pins and needles out of it. "I might just . . . pop out to check on him. In case."

"Good plan," said Nano.

With one more stretch, Nilesy headed out, carding a hand back through his hair to try and get it out of his eyes. As always, it fell right back in. He still wasn't used to the blondeness of it.

Outside, things were surprisingly quiet. He'd half expected sirens and screaming pedestrians, but everything seemed to be pretty much business as usual. If anything, it was quieter than normal. The air was cool and humid, and he got the impression it had just gotten done raining.

Trell was standing by the stairs, both elbows leaned on the railing, staring out at the skyline. The streetlights lit up his hair into an orange halo. Nilesy approached slowly, trying to make noise. Trell's head turned a couple degrees, but he didn't actually look back. Nilesy stopped where he was.

"Probably not wise to be alone outside just now," he remarked.

"So long as I stay out less than an hour, it's not an issue," Trell said.

"Fair enough," said Nilesy. He rolled up onto his toes and back. "D'you want me to go, then? Leave you alone until you're needed?"

Trell took a long breath through his nose. He took one arm off of the balcony and half-turned towards Nilesy, presenting his profile instead of his back, although he still didn't look at him.

"I would say _I don't care,_ but I've got a feeling that wouldn't go over well with you," said Trell. "So in the interest of honesty: no, I don't really want you to go."

Nilesy's heart leapt up into his throat. He swallowed it back down. Although he would have liked to join Trell at the railing, he stayed where he was.

"That's lucky," he said. "Because I didn't particularly want to go, either."

Trell's mouth quirked to one side.

"It _is_ a bit crowded in there," he said.

"Just a bit," said Nilesy. "At this rate, you might have to invest your inconceivable wealth in a bigger flat."

He snorted. "Yes, because _that's_ the next logical step, rather than all of you going back to your own homes."

"Yeah, obviously," said Nilesy, sticking his hands in his pockets. "That's what _I_ did whenever I started picking up strays. I wasn't even wealthy."

"I'm not picking up any strays," said Trell. "They're Nano's strays, or else yours."

"Nah, we're all your strays and you know it," said Nilesy. "Sorry to say, you and Fox have got a menagerie now."

Trell sighed and made a face, rubbing his forehead.

 _"I've_ got a menagerie," he said, and his voice was heavy. "I'm not sure Fox is in on it anymore."

Nilesy tipped his head to the side. "Why not?" he asked. "If you don't mind my asking. Sorry. Don't mean to pry."

"No, it's only that . . . Fox and I have hit a bit of a rough patch," Trell said, rolling his eyes. "It's nothing major, just . . . a bit of a rough patch."

"D'you want to talk about it?" Nilesy asked.

Trell shrugged. He turned to look out over the balcony, his face stony.

"Well," he said. "Xe's upset with me for skipping back in time to un-have arguments. Which is perfectly understandable, because it's a dick move, and I don't hold it against xem."

Nilesy looked him over—the tension in his shoulders, the downward turn of his mouth, the tightness around his eyes.

"You don't?" he said.

"Xe's just so fucking _self-centered,"_ Trell burst out. "Xe _loves_ to pretend xe hasn't got any feelings whatsoever, except being pissed off or derisive, which apparently don't count, and then suddenly out of fucking _nowhere_ xe's upset with me for hurting the feelings I wasn't meant to know xe had! And it's _my_ fault for not thinking about xem, it's _my_ fault for being selfish, but I _was_ thinking about xem, I was doing my fucking best to keep xem from getting hurt, and apparently that was the wrong fucking answer!"

Nilesy kept quiet, waiting, in case Trell was going to keep going. Trell rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, swallowing.

"And the worst bit is, xe's right," Trell said. "It _was_ selfish of me, and I shouldn't've done it. I just—I don't want to be the only one in the wrong, here. I don't want to be, but I don't know if I am or not. I don't know if my reasons were reasonable or just—I've just been rationalizing it to get away with shit. I didn't _think_ I was doing it for the sake of using xem as a punching bag, but apparently that's how Fox sees it, so maybe I'm wrong. I dunno. It's a stupid thing to be upset about. The whole fucking world's gone mad and people are getting killed and _I'm_ worried about _relationship troubles._ It's stupid."

"I don't think so," said Nilesy. He leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his ankles. "So d'you want advice, or just validation right now?"

"Fuck if I know. What validation have you got?" Trell asked.

"I think you've got every right to be upset with Fox, and with yourself," said Nilesy. "Yes, you've fucked up and done something hurtful, whether you meant to or not, and that needs to be fixed. Personally I don't see you as the type to go in for punching bags. Still, somebody got hurt, and at that point intention stops mattering."

Trell nodded. He glanced out over the car park, then back at Nilesy, and sighed.

"And what advice?"

"Talk to xem," Nilesy said. "Not trying to explain yourself, not trying to call xem out on—on—sorry, hang on, what's the possessive?"

"Xyr," said Trell, with a little pinch at the corner of his mouth that might've been a smile.

"Right, thanks," said Nilesy. "Not trying to call xem out on xyr faults, but having a conversation about what went wrong and what you need to make it go right from here on. And—an important bit— _listen_ when xe tells you xyr half. By the sounds of things, the relationship's plenty salvageable if you're both willing to do a bit of work."

"I dunno," Trell said, turning away. "I'm not sure it _ought_ to be salvaged. I mean, I haven't. . . ."

"Haven't what?" said Nilesy.

"We haven't either broken out the L-word yet," Trell mumbled, hunching his shoulders.

"All right," said Nilesy. "Do you love xem?"

Trell fidgeted, like he'd just gotten back from the beach and hadn't managed to get all the sand out of his clothes. He shrugged and made faces and tugged on his ear.

"Well," he said. A shy smile flitted across his lips and was gone again. "Well . . . yeah. I—I s'pose I do."

"There you are, then!" said Nilesy, trying not to be taken with how cute this was. "That's a good one to lead with."

Trell hung his head, wrinkling his nose.

"I don't know if I can," he said. "Tell xem, I mean. Like, ever."

"Why not?"

"Because . . . because xe'll _laugh_ at me," he said, pained. "Like anybody stupid enough and childish enough to feel anything as deep as _love_ is—is a joke. And it _is_ a joke, to Fox. It's _feelings._ It's all just . . . embarrassing naïvety."

"D'you know what's embarrassing naïvety?" Nilesy asked. "Thinking that feeling things deeply is stupid. If Fox hasn't got the emotional maturity to respect feelings as real and important, then xe's not ready for a serious relationship."

"I just don't want to lose xem," Trell said.

"Being that you love xem, I'd imagine so."

"No, just—I really, _really_ don't want to lose xem," he said, almost pleading. "I haven't got any other friends. Or any friends at all, really. I've got _nothing._ It's just me and Granamyr in my stupid flat, making dinners for one and melting my brains out watching TV and getting fucking pushed around by Strife, because even with the most fucking incredible Powers in the universe, there's _still_ nothing I can do about one fucking rich White man. You have no fucking _idea_ what that's like."

"That's . . . true," said Nilesy. "I imagine it must be frustrating."

"It's fucking _infuriating,"_ said Trell. "It's fucking _depressing._ D'you know how many people have worked themselves to the _bone_ trying to get rid of people like Strife? Trying to get rid of _Strife?_ Fucking generations' worth. And now here's me, unkillable and practically prescient and still, _still_ fucking powerless because apparently the only people with enough leverage to get rid of evil bastards like Strife are other White people, and you won't fucking do it."

Nilesy said nothing. There had been many, many, _many_ times he could've gotten rid of Strife, and he hadn't done it. Maybe that wasn't precisely what Trell had meant, but was a heavy realization nonetheless.

"And Fox isn't helping with that, either," said Trell. "Even though xyr end of the stick is practically as short as mine. Strife's a paycheck to xem, and xe's not going to cut xemself off, which it's hard to blame xem for. But at least xe tries. At least xe sticks up for me _sometimes._ If I lose Fox, I've got nobody in my corner."

"You've got me," Nilesy said.

"Bullshit, I have," Trell said.

Nilesy swallowed, inclined his head, and said, "You've got me from now on."

There was a moment.

"Well," Trell said. "Thanks."

"Anytime," said Nilesy. "I'm also pretty sure Panda's in a similar boat to you, as regards Strife, or at least he has been. If you want somebody to commiserate with."

"Of course he is," Trell muttered.

For a while, neither of them said anything. There was a squirming in Nilesy's guts, and he let it squirm there. Eventually, Trell sighed.

"I wish it was simple," he said, picking at the paint on the railing. "I wish it was just that I'm a bit of a cad and Fox is—is completely derisive about any sort of nonsexual intimacy, because that seems almost _manageable._ That seems like a problem that—solutions exist for."

Something occurred to Nilesy, and he said, "Wait, back up a second. Is Fox aromantic?"

Trell looked at him, blinking. "Is xe what?" he said, perplexed.

"Aromantic," said Nilesy. "Doesn't feel romantic attraction, as in like, kissing and cuddling and going on dates. Because I've only just thought of it, and there's a massive difference between repressing your emotions for fucking _cool points_ or whatever and . . . genuinely not having certain feelings. And it might actually be the second one."

"I . . . I dunno," said Trell. "Xe's never mentioned it. But—it does sound plausible, I s'pose."

"Might be a good thing to include in the conversation, when you have it," Nilesy said. "And . . . look, I'm not at all knowledgable about—race issues, or the intersections of race with Powers, but if there's something I can do, I'll do it."

"Start by getting knowledgable," Trell said.

"I . . . will do that," said Nilesy. "Thank you."

"You _do_ seem weirdly knowledgable about how to manage healthy relationships, though," Trell said.

Nilesy cracked a smile.

"No relationship with me in it has ever been healthy," he said. "I've had to learn every trick in the book to compensate."

"Do a lot of compensating, do you?" Trell asked, a lilt to his voice.

"Not much," Nilesy said, matching his tone. "But I can do an _awful_ lot of tricks."

Trell snorted and clapped a hand over his mouth, and Nilesy leaned back, grinning.

 _Finally,_ somebody who laughed at his fucking _jokes._


	46. Chapter 45

Nothing had happened for a week, and Lomadia took this as a good sign. She hadn't seen Specimen Five again since their first meeting, and Lalnable seemed to be getting bored of talking when he brought her food. There had been twenty meals since she'd woken up in the new place, which was how she was counting time, since there were no windows. Her clothes had also been washed and given back to her, although they were starting to get grimy again. She could have done with a shower, or at least a dust bath. Still, nothing horrible had happened, and she was beginning to come around to the idea that maybe things weren't as bad as she'd originally thought. If this was how it was going to be, she could wait practically indefinitely for Nano.

Because she hadn't had much to do, she'd also spent a fair bit of time getting the lay of her surroundings. The tank had stood up to everything she'd thrown at it, although there were some nice gouges in the sides now. The whole thing was held together with big metal bolts, joining each wall to the others, to the ceilings and floors. She'd tried rattling the ceiling to jimmy the bolts loose, but they were wedged in tight. Even sticking her arm through the hole where the fan had been, she could only reach one of them, and didn't have a good angle to pull it out. She'd barely managed to shift it an inch, even after a week's worth of yanking.

She was in the midst of this hobby when she heard approaching footsteps, and stopped immediately to listen better. It quickly became clear that two people were coming, and one of them was Five. The other, however, did not sound like Lalnable—he took long, purposeful, heavy strides, while these were shuffling and light. Lomadia pulled her arm back into the box and moved into the center of it, apprehensive. This break from routine could hardly be anything good.

Soon enough, the round door at the far end of the room opened, and Specimen Five swaggered through it, smirking.

Rythian came in behind her, blindfolded.

There was gray in his hair, and his arms were mottled with stripes and swaths of paler or pinker skin. A silver ring encircled his neck, a solid piece of metal that didn't have any clasps or hooks that Lomadia could see. There was also a tight leather collar, with a leash attached to it, by which Five was leading him. He took small steps, his head down, his elbows pinned close to his sides. His wrists and ankles were not bound, although both were thoroughly ringed with pale skin. He'd lost a lot of weight, and was shivering. Five brought him to a spot about three meters from Lomadia's tank and then kicked him in the back of the leg. He sank to his knees, his jaw clenching.

"Now isn't this a fun little reunion," Five said. She plucked the blindfold from Rythian's eyes and tossed it away.

Rythian looked up. He went very still, apart from the shivering. His face remained blank, but there was a shift in his posture, although Lomadia couldn't derive any meaning from it.

"Rythian?" she said.

He didn't respond, just kept looking at her in silence. Five grinned.

"I told him if he talked, I'd cut his tongue out," she said. "Apparently, that one got through his thick little skull!"

She hit him in the back of the head, hard. He dropped his gaze and bowed his head. His clenched fists rested on his thighs.

"Stop it," Lomadia snapped, thumping a hand against the glass.

"Oh, sweetheart, if you think _that's_ bad, just wait," said Five, and giggled. She put a hand on Rythian's head, possessive. Rythian's lip curled.

"Leave him alone," said Lomadia, fury boiling in her chest. "Stop touching him, he doesn't like it!"

"Yeah, that's why it's so much _fun,"_ said Five, her eyes half-lidded. "It took an _awful_ lot of training to get him to where he is. He was a nightmare when he came in."

Five pushed her hand into Rythian's hair and grabbed on, so tight that it made him wince. She bent down, pulling his head back to turn his face towards her.

"But he's _very_ good now," she said. "He doesn't even complain anymore, when we're not hurting him. Took him long enough."

Rythian just sat there, silent, shivering. Five giggled. Lomadia banged on the wall again.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded.

 _"Everything,"_ Five said. "Some of it he even liked!"

She leaned in and kissed him, deeply. Rythian's eyes drifted to Lomadia. She battered uselessly against the box, sickened and furious and helpless. Five broke off with a loud smacking noise and Rythian's eyelids lowered again, leaving his eyes half closed.

"See?" said Five, smiling at him. "He's gotten _very_ good. I'm going to put him through his paces for you. We just taught him a couple new tricks yesterday, and they're by _far_ my favorites. I'm glad he's keeping his mouth shut, because I'd _really_ hate to lose that tongue."

She giggled again, pulling on Rythian's hair until she mashed his head up against her thigh. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles had turned pale.

"In case you're too dumb to work out what that means," Five went on, "I'm going to fuck him and you're going to watch."

"I'm going to _kill_ you!" Lomadia snarled. "I'm going to rip your ugly head off!"

Five laughed, straightening up and turning to Lomadia.

"Oh yeah?" she said. "Like to see you—"

Rythian struck her in the back of the knee with one elbow. She dropped with a shriek of pain. His fist slammed into her chin. She crumpled. He leapt on her. He struck her in the face three, four more times. He scrambled to his feet and staggered back, the leash dangling against his chest. Five lay still, blood running from her nose and mouth. Rythian stared at her, panting, his eyes huge.

"Rythian!" Lomadia said. He snapped out of it, glancing between her and Five several times. He started for Lomadia, hesitated, then darted back and kicked Five in the ribs with a sharp _crack._ He ran to Lomadia's tank and started fumbling at one of the metal bolts holding the wall in place.

"We have to go," he said. "We have to go, right now."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "Just be careful not to zap me—"

"No, no," said Rythian, shaking his head. He was shivering violently. His eyes were wide and wild. "No, it's out right now. Because Five was—because—"

He started to breathe too fast, gripping the bolt as hard as he could, head bowed and eyes squeezed shut.

 _"Rythian,"_ Lomadia insisted. He shook himself, glanced over his shoulder at Five, and turned his focus back to the bolts.

"Okay, okay," he muttered. He heaved on the bolt, and it slid up and out with a horrible screech. He threw it onto the floor and tried to get the one near the top, but he wasn't tall enough.

"The bottom ones, get the bottom ones!" Lomadia said, pointing.

"Right, yes, right—" said Rythian. He dropped to his knees and pulled out the bolts at the bottom of the wall, more horrible screeching noises of metal on metal. Lomadia pushed hard at the corner of the box, warping the plastic, and finally managed to squeeze out. The metal edge scraped painfully against her wings. The moment she was free, Rythian grabbed her hand and hauled her towards the door.

"But—" Lomadia said. Five was still unconscious on the floor. Lomadia's claws _itched._

"We have to _go,"_ Rythian insisted, panic cracking his voice. "If we kill her, Lalnable will come right for us, we have to go _now!"_

Lomadia hesitated only a moment before she let him drag her out of the room. He pulled up to a sudden stop just outside the door, looking frantically up and down the corridor before dashing off to the left.

"Do you know where you're going?" Lomadia asked, stumbling to keep up with him. The floors were too hard and hurt her feet, the air thick with too much noise.

"Kind of," said Rythian. "Yes. Maybe. I—I know where we're not going. This way, this way!"

He took a corner very suddenly, nearly pulling Lomadia off her feet. He was gripping her hand so tight it hurt. The corridors were small, so small she kept banging her wings on the ceiling and walls as they ran. The whole place was a mess, like spaghetti all thrown together, twisting and turning and crossing over itself. They hit another junction and Rythian skidded to a stop. His faced scrunched up, and then he hit himself in the head like he was trying to knock something loose.

"Come on," he muttered, "come on, come on—"

"There's stairs," Lomadia said, pointing. "Is up good?"

"Up is good!" Rythian said, and he was off again. He took the stairs two at a time, so fast that Lomadia tripped and fell. The stairwell was too narrow for her to use her wings. He hauled her onto her feet again, nearly picking her up.

They ran through two more corridors, two more junctions. Lomadia's breath was coming short, her legs burning. Rythian hadn't slowed down at all. He barely seemed out of breath. With every passing second, he grew more nervous, more frantic.

"Exit!" he crowed, pointing to a glowing green sign in a doorway. "Exit, this way!"

He dragged her through the doorway. The next corridor had windows for walls. Rythian stumbled, and faltered, and wound down and stopped.

Everything was drenched in blue light, dim. Outside, there was a tall cliff, thick mud. The sky was strange and shimmering. Thin tendrils of light played over the floor.

A school of fish swam by.

Slowly, Rythian's hand slid out of Lomadia's. Slowly, he sank to his knees, staring out the window. A pair of tears chased down his cheeks.

"No, c'mon," Lomadia said. She took him by the arm, tried to get him on his feet again. "They must've got down here somehow, there's like a boat or a tunnel or something, Rythian, get up, we've got to—"

_"There you are."_

Rythian went rigid. Lomadia whirled. Lalnable was stepping through the doorway behind them, trailing the smell of burning meat.

Lomadia flared out her wings, filling the corridor, shielding Rythian. She flexed her claws, bent her knees.

"Leave him alone," she said.

"You _hurt Five,"_ he snarled. One of his arms snapped up, too fast to follow, and there was an awful whine and Lomadia's mind went blank and somebody shoved her, _hard._

 _"I hurt Five!"_ Rythian cried desperately, staggering upright and into the line of fire. _"I_ did, _me,_ it was just me!"

Lalnable stood perfectly still. Smoke curled from his wrist, where his skin was boiling. Rythian stood there, trembling, panting, crying.

"Ordinarily," Lalnable said slowly, "I would find your pathetic martyrdom funny."

He blurred. Rythian shrieked. There was an awful _crack._ Rythian slammed into the glass and crumpled.

"But I am _not amused!"_ Lalnable roared. There was blood on his knuckles. Rythian wasn't moving.

Lomadia leapt on Lalnable, claws tearing. Something hit her in the head. Her vision went white. She tasted blood. The world spun crazily. She couldn't get her feet underneath her. He kicked her in the shoulder. Something cracked. Pain exploded through her chest. She scrambled to get upright. His foot came down on her wing. Another explosion of pain, another horrible crunch. She screamed. He planted the foot in her back and slammed her into the floor. White-hot hands grabbed her wings. She thrashed, screaming, screaming.

He _yanked._ There was an instant of blinding agony, nuclear, all-consuming.

She blacked out.

* * *

 

It was a long, long time before Lomadia got back to herself.

A lot of things had happened, none of which she could remember with any clarity. All of it had been blurred out by terrible pain. The only thing she knew for certain was that Lalnable had been there for most of it. The rest was just bright lights and strange shapes and the smell of blood.

And pain. At some point, the pain had stopped, and now she was here, lying on something cold and hard.

For a while, she didn't move. She knew what was wrong, what was different, but she couldn't bear to confront it. So long as she held still, didn't acknowledge it, maybe she could drift back off to sleep, and when she woke up again this would all have been a nightmare. The longer she waited, though, the clearer her perceptions became. Her eyes fell open and she could pick out every pore on her own hand where it lay in front of her face. The air was cold and smelled like hospitals. That constant creaking and groaning was still going on—it must have been the ocean, swirling all around the undersea base. She was back in her box, clear plastic floors and walls.

Slowly, Lomadia reached one trembling hand over her shoulder and touched her aching back.

The skin was smooth, no scar tissue to be found. There was a divot about the size of her fist just behind her shoulder blade. She ran her fingers over it, around it, across it, inside it.

Any minute now, she'd wake up. She had to. There was no way this could be real, no way it could be anything but a nightmare. Nilesy had talked about his nightmares. He'd said sometimes they seemed real, even though they were too terrible to be true. He'd said it was just his brain trawling up his deepest, darkest fears and playing make-believe with them without telling him it was pretend.

Her nose started running. There was a lump in her throat so big and so heavy that she couldn't breathe past it. She was going to be sick. She was going to scream. She was _going_ to wake up.

Any minute now.

Lomadia curled her knees up to her chest and clasped both hands behind her head. She started sobbing. She couldn't stop it any more than she could stop her heart beating. Before she knew it, she was screaming and pounding her fists on the floor, tiny and weak and less than whole, her ears ringing with the sound of her own misery.

Eventually, she ran out of grief and just lay there, sniffling and exhausted. She heaved herself upright and wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking back and forth, back and forth, until the motion became familiar and the familiarity became soothing. Her balance was all wrong and at first she kept almost tipping over backwards, but after a while she got the hang of it, and it wasn't so bad. She opened and closed her talons in rhythm with her rocking—at least she still had those, the muscles still powerful, the claws still sharp. Bit by bit, she learned to breathe again.

She probably wasn't going to wake up. At this point, she had to accept that. She wasn't dreaming, and this really was happening. On the other hand, there weren't huge bloody holes in her back, so that was good. Maybe, if she could get hold of the serum, she could grow her wings back. It had fixed a broken arm before, and broken ears, and even made Panda's legs work again after he got shot in the back. Surely, it could grow back her wings. It would be all right. She would be all right.

This was fixable.

When these thoughts had percolated through and settled, another set came up to replace them. It was obvious that waiting for Nano wasn't an option anymore. Five and Lalnable were going to hurt her again, and she couldn't afford to lose anything else. Rythian was in serious trouble and obviously couldn't get himself out, so Lomadia would have to—assuming, of course, that he was even still alive.

Lomadia rocked faster, burying her face in her knees. He hadn't been moving, after Lalnable hit him. She couldn't remember if he'd been breathing or not. There had been blood. Lalnable had hit him so hard, too, the noise of it had been terrible, breaking bone and splitting flesh. She put her hands over her ears, trying to block out the memory of the sound. Had his head been at a funny angle? She couldn't remember. He'd crumpled like a doll, but maybe he'd only been unconscious.

And maybe Five had cut his tongue out, and Lalnable had ripped his arms off, and—

She hit herself in the leg, sharply, nine times in a row. Her brain broke off its awful imaginings, dragged back to earth by the stinging pain. She forced herself to breathe, using the rhythm of her rocking as a guide.

She needed to get out of this box. She needed to find Rythian. She needed to escape. That was all there was to it—nothing else was important. Get out of the box, get Rythian, escape. Simple. She could do that.

The question was: _how?_

* * *

 

It was several hours before anybody came to look in on her, and Lomadia spent most of it learning how to walk again. Her balance was all wrong, and her legs were shaky and weak. She started out with one hand against the wall, taking baby steps as she paced the perimeter of her tank. She felt terribly light, as though the slightest breath of wind would knock her over, as though any second her feet would leave the ground and she would just float away. Every so often she had to sit down again and rock until that feeling went away.

When she could reliably walk from one side of the tank to the other, she decided she might as well get back to work. Standing up as tall as she could, she reached out through the hole in the roof and started jimmying the one bolt she could reach. Without her wings, she was much smaller, and might be able to squeeze out even if she could only get the one. She'd only been working on it long enough for her arm to start getting sore when she heard Lalnable approaching.

For a moment, she wasn't sure what to do. Should she lie down and pretend to be unconscious? Stand up and put on a strong face? He probably wasn't going to kill her, otherwise he would already have done it, but it was possible that he was going to hurt her again.

The thought frightened her.

In the end, pressed for time and low on options, she just sat down on the floor cross-legged and waited. When Lalnable came in the door, she watched him closely. There wasn't any blood on his clothes, and he was carrying a plastic bag of orange mush. His eyes were red, but that could have meant anything, because unlike Lalna's, she'd never seen his change.

"Where's Rythian?" she asked, as he approached her tank, swift and purposeful.

He didn't answer. With a fluid bound, he jumped up on top of the tank. Lomadia flinched at the loud _clang_ of his landing. Glaring down at her, he walked to the hole in the roof and dropped the bag in.

Lomadia yelped and scrambled back as the bag exploded on the ground like a water balloon. Chunky orange mush went everywhere, splattering all over the tank and all over Lomadia. It reeked of sweet potato, and was sticky and slimy and disgusting.

"That's _rude!"_ Lomadia said, glaring up at him.

Staring right at her eyes, Lalnable kicked the loosened bolt back into place. He hopped down off the tank and started away.

"I'm going to kill you!" she snarled, as he walked to the door.

Lalnable left, slamming the door behind him. His clanging footsteps faded into the background roar.

Lomadia sat, confused and hurt and furious. The orange mush trickled down the walls and congealed on her skin, in her hair. Tentatively, she wiped some of it off of her face with her thumb and put it in her mouth. Unsurprisingly, it tasted mostly of sweet potato, although looking around she could see chunks of vegetables and maybe cooked meat in with the sticky mess.

A stinging welled up in her sinuses, a lump in her throat. Here was her dinner, splattered all over the floors and walls. She'd either have to eat it like an animal or go hungry.

Lomadia was not overly familiar with the concept of humiliation, but she was sure that this was it. If she hadn't been so ravenously hungry, she might have chosen to preserve her pride a little longer, but as it was, there were more important things—namely, getting out of here as soon as possible.

She started by getting as much of the mush off of her skin as she could, because the texture was horrible. Then she found the biggest piece of the plastic bag she could and used it as a kind of flimsy bowl, into which she pushed the larger part of the mess. Then she had to clean her hands again, but at least she wouldn't be eating off the floor.

If she'd been on her own, things would have been different. She would have stubbornly refused to eat, hurled curses and threats at every possible opportunity, hardly even cared about Lalnable kicking the bolt back in. As it was, she found herself persistently on the verge of sobbing as she slurped down this gross excuse for a meal, because the longer it took her to get out, the longer Five and Lalnable had to hurt Rythian. They might even kill him, while she was stuck in here being useless. No matter what, though, she was certain that time was now her enemy, and Rythian's as well. If he wasn't dead already, he was in serious trouble, and Lomadia was the only person who could save him.

As she finished her food, the exhaustion really started catching up with her. She could barely keep her eyes open, and her whole body felt floaty and dim. She went to the cleanest corner of the cell and curled up, resting her shoulder against the wall. Rest was important, too, and she considered herself lucky to be feeling sleepy already. In the morning, certainly, she'd really get to work on getting out of here. A night's rest would do her immeasurable good.

It was only when she heard the distant clanging of Lalnable's footsteps, rippling the surface of her fading consciousness, that it occurred to her that she might have been drugged.


	47. Chapter 46

When Trell came back in, Panda was up and about, wandering around the flat and gawping like a tourist. Nilesy had stayed outside, promising to make unmissable amounts of noise if anything went wrong. Nano was still elbow-deep in Lalna's chest, now with her earbuds in, and Garion appeared to be asleep.

"Eyes back on?" Trell asked Panda, coming into the kitchen.

"Yeah," said Panda, giddy. "I got sick of waiting about and just gave myself the shots, and it's fucking _great."_

"You stuck _needles_ in your _eyes?"_ Trell said, horrified.

"What? No. High doses and proximity's enough," said Panda.

"You stuck needles _near_ your _eyes?"_

Panda rolled said eyes, which were now back to their customary dark brown.

"Look, I'm diabetic," he said. "Needles aren't a big deal."

"But near your _eyes?"_

"You're really caught up on that, aren't you," said Panda, folding his arms and cocking a hip out to one side.

Trell made a face. "Better you than me, anyway," he said. "Have we got a plan for what's next yet?"

"Only in the most general sense of the word," said Panda. "Wake Lal back up, find Five and Lalnable, go fuck their shit up and save the fucking day, I guess."

"Brilliant," Trell drawled. "It's foolproof."

"Yeah, we're all gonna die," said Panda. "Honestly I don't give a fuck anymore. So long as I get to rip that robotic fucker's wiry guts out, I'll die happy."

Trell raised his eyebrows.

"Better you than me," he said again.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Trell went and rummaged in the fridge. When he came back up with a box of week-old takeout, Panda was hovering near his elbow.

"All right," said Trell, closing the fridge. "Out with it, then."

"Just . . . I wanted to say I'm sorry," said Panda. "And thank you. I know we sort of kicked in the door to your life and got our mess all over everything, and it's not really fair of us, so . . . thanks. Because you didn't have to help us, and, y'know, if you wanted to walk away now, I know nobody'd hold it against you."

Trell took a long breath through his nose, leaning back.

"You're right," he said. "I didn't have to. But I decided to. And it was the right choice."

"Seriously?" Panda said. "I feel like we ruined your fucking life."

"I hated my fucking life," Trell said, rolling his eyes. "You've saved me the trouble of ruining it myself."

Panda snorted. "Relatable," he said. He hesitated. "The reason I said all that, right, is because just now you said _we._ Have _we_ got a plan for what's next. And I was wondering if you were planning on sticking around."

"We'll see," said Trell. "I get the feeling my usefulness has got an upper limit that we're rapidly approaching."

"Nah, come off it," said Panda. "There's zero problems that aren't improved by having an hour's notice."

"You'd think," Trell muttered. "Hasn't helped me much with Strife, I'll tell you that for free."

"Strife is a fuck," Panda spat. "Y'know what, I changed my mind, I'll die happy if I can rip out Lalnable's guts _and_ Strife's. And whoever that Vox fucker was. Otherwise I'm coming back as a fucking poltergeist and wrecking their shit posthumously."

"Direct action, I see," said Trell. He slipped past Panda and stuck the takeout box in the microwave. "My methods don't solve many problems, but they _do_ mean I get to rip into Strife whenever I want with _almost_ no lasting consequences. Verbally, I mean."

"God, I'm jealous," said Panda. He leaned his hip on the counter. "What d'you say to him?"

Slowly, Trell's mouth curved into a smile.

"I've got lists," he said.

"Tell me _all of them,"_ said Panda.

* * *

 

Lalna's waking came without much fanfare, but also with very little relief. Trell laid down on the bed beforehand, in case he had to skip back. It was bizarre to see the relief on the others' faces when Nano started booting up Lalna and Trell didn't start seizing. Then again, he supposed they wouldn't know it was the first time round. He found himself jealous of their comfort. He wished he could be so sure that nothing was going to go wrong.

The rebooting process took, as previously, about forty-five minutes. Trell couldn't help but think of the last time he'd sat in on Lalna's rebooting. This time, hopefully, violence wouldn't erupt instantaneously—but that had also been the hope the last two times, and much good it had done him.

He'd neglected to mention that Lalna had actually killed him, both times. He wasn't sure if the others would have survived their injuries, but he was sure he wouldn't have. His neck was still sore.

At last, Lalna sat up, their eyes blue and blinking. They looked around.

"Hi," they said.

"Hi, Lal," Nano said carefully. "Are you . . . is everything working?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Lalna.

"D'you think you could turn your interpersonal software back on, love?" Nano asked.

They sat perfectly still for about two seconds. Their eyes turned purple, and then the light faded out. They put their head in their hands and pulled their knees up to their chest.

"Oh, no," they moaned.

"Yep, there it is," said Panda.

"I'm sorry," Lalna said. "I'm so sorry. I've been _awful_ _,_ I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . ."

"You weren't yourself," Nano said. Gently, she put a hand on their shoulder. They leaned into the touch.

"There's too much," they said. "Where am I meant to start? What am I meant to even do?"

"Start at the beginning," Nilesy said. "Work your way through."

"But it's been ages! We've got to rescue Rythian and Lomadia, we've got to _do_ something, we've got to—we _ee_ e've got to—"

"Easy, Lal, take it easy," said Nano, squeezing their shoulder. "I know it's a lot, I know—"

Suddenly, Lalna lifted their head and uncurled. Nano went rigid. Lalna's eyes were blue again, bright and glowing.

"Nilesy, I'm glad you're back," they said. "You're not hurt, right?"

"Sib, don't do this," Nilesy said.

"Nah, it's fine," said Lalna. "I'm good. Panda, your eyes aren't blue anymore, but you've got both of them. What's up with that?"

"Lalna, don't _do_ this," Nilesy insisted. "You can't just put it away because it's too hard."

"Mmmm, no, yeah, I think I probably can," said Lalna. "It's working fine."

"It's not going to get any _better."_

"It's better now," said Lalna. "You wouldn't understand, don't worry about it."

Nilesy suddenly went sharp as a tack. He got to his feet, every movement underpinned with restrained violence. Panda backed away from him.

"Would you care to rephrase that?" Nilesy said, his voice low and cold.

"Nilesy, stop it," said Nano. "They're having a hard enough time—"

"They're about to have a much fucking harder one," Nilesy interrupted.

"Why, because I remind you of Xephos?" Lalna said, tipping their head to the side. "Honestly, this isn't productive. If you can't put your trauma away long enough to get work done, then you don't need to be here."

"Hey, fuck you," Panda snapped. Nilesy held up a hand, signaling to him.

"No," he said. "They're right." He took a deep breath and let it out again. "Lalna, I would argue that I _do_ understand. I understand dissociating from unmanageable emotions and memories, because that's my life. Would you agree that it's an analogous situation?"

Lalna's eyes flickered orange, and they made a face.

"I guess," they said. "But I function much better this way."

"More efficiently," Nilesy allowed. "For the moment. But look around the room, Lalna. Do _we_ look like we're functioning better than usual?"

Obediently, Lalna looked around the room—at Nilesy, taut and sharp; at Panda, fists and jaw clenched; at Nano, pain written in every feature. They turned their eyes to Trell, and he made a face, shaking his head. They sat up a little straighter and looked over the bed at Garion, who waved shyly.

"I don't have a baseline for them," Lalna said, pointing at Garion, "and Trell seems about the same as usual, but yeah, I guess the rest of you don't look so good."

"I think we'd function better if you were . . . more yourself," said Nano.

"Yeah, but I don't want to be," said Lalna. "It's miserable. You'd put your feelings away, too, if you could."

"Have done," said Nilesy. "Turns out it's not actually that helpful."

"You do fine," said Lalna, frowning at him.

"I'm not the one who hasn't got feelings," said Nilesy. "Vee is."

Lalna blinked.

"Oh," they said.

"To be fair, he's very efficient," Nilesy said.

For a while, Lalna said nothing. They clasped their hands and started tapping their thumbs together.

"I don't think I can do it all at once," they said.

"No one's asking you to," Nano said. "Take as much time as you need."

"It might take more time than we've got," said Lalna. "Rescuing Rythian and Lomadia is _way_ more important."

"You can put it on hold if you need to," said Nano. "Whenever you need to."

"Good, yeah, so I'm just going to keep it on hold until they're safe," said Lalna. "That's fine, right?"

"We've _just_ been through this, sib," said Nilesy.

Lalna pouted. "But I don't _want_ to," they said. "Why's it easier for me to go through like a month's worth of emotional turmoil than for all of you to just, I dunno, toughen up a bit?"

"How d'you want Rythian to see you?" Panda said suddenly.

"Sorry, what?" said Lalna, their eyes turning orange.

"When we find him," said Panda. "When we rescue him. Are you gonna be like this? Is that really how you want that reunion to go?"

"It doesn't _matter,"_ said Lalna, their eyes reddening. "There won't be any reunion at all if we can't rescue him!"

"But—"

"All right, fuck it," said Trell. "I'm not working with you if you don't get your shit together. You don't stay in my flat, and I'm not using my Powers to help you."

Lalna's eyes went totally red, just for an instant. There was a lurch in Trell's abdomen, but he hung on. He'd skip back when he died anyway.

"That would be really detrimental to the rescue effort," Lalna said.

"I don't give a fuck," Trell said, although he did. "They're not _my_ friends."

Lalna stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. He wondered what sort of calculations were going on in there, watching their eyes shift between orange and red and fuchsia.

"Who're they?" Lalna asked at last, pointing to Garion.

"That's Garion," Nano said. "He worked with Kirin, mostly designing combat suits for the Division and uniforms for Security and Medical."

"He helped me escape," Panda added.

"H—hi," Garion said.

Lalna returned their attention to Trell.

"I want something, if we're making demands," they said. "Otherwise we'll just get on without you, which I've just worked out how to do."

"What d'you want?" Trell asked.

"To figure out how your Powers work," said Lalna.

"No," Panda said immediately. "That's too far."

"Yeah, all right," said Trell. "After everyone's rescued, and you've got your emotional backlog cleared."

"Okay," said Lalna.

"What the fuck?" Panda hissed at Trell.

Trell winked at him, as subtly as he could. Panda frowned, but didn't say anything.

"It'll probably be easiest to start in sleep mode," Lalna sighed. "Just to get the baseline in order. So if anybody needs me, I'll be in sleep mode."

"You can set up by the window," Trell said.

"Okay," Lalna said again. They got to their feet and moved to the other side of the room. The floorboards creaked under their feet. They settled into the corner opposite Garion, shut their eyes, and went statue-still. After a moment, their chest began to rise and fall, like they were breathing.

"What the fuck?" Panda repeated.

"Can they hear, when they're doing this?" Trell asked, gesturing to Lalna.

"I don't think so?" Nano guessed. "Or at least, I don't think they listen."

"Fuck it, I don't even care," said Trell, although his heart was still pounding. "By the time they've got through all their repressed feelings or whatever the fuck, I doubt they'll be wanting to experiment on anybody anymore."

Panda opened his mouth. He shut it again. Nano raised her eyebrows, blinking. Nilesy's face split into a stellar grin.

"You're a bloody genius," he said.

"Thanks for noticing," said Trell.

* * *

 

The text came in at about nine o'clock the next morning.

Trell rolled halfway out of bed, where he'd been pretending to sleep for the past hour while Nano, Garion, and Panda talked quietly in the kitchen. He fumbled his phone off of his nightstand and peered blearily at the message.

And then stared, with a slow and sinking feeling in his gut.

"Um," he said.

"What?" said Nilesy, leaning out from the papasan chair.

"That doesn't sound good," said Nano.

"I've just got a text from your wife," Trell said to Nano, hefting his phone.

"What does it say?" Nano demanded, hurrying over.

"A garbled mess," said Trell, handing the phone to her.

"It's the tail end of a URL," she said. "Have you got a laptop you don't care much about?"

"The TV connects to the internet," said Trell, heaving himself upright. His heart was in his throat and he couldn't swallow it down. They had his phone number. They knew who he was. There was nothing he could do about it.

"Lal!" Nano said sharply, turning the TV on. Their eyes opened and the lights flickered on. "We've got some sort of message, they've sent it to Trell's phone."

"On it," said Lalna, their eyes going flat blue. The TV screen glitched out, flicking through dozens of webpages every second. Trell had to look away as a profound discomfort washed over him and his abdomen twinged.

"What's going on?" Garion asked, huddled against the fridge like a mouse.

"The people who kidnapped my wife and Rythian have just sent us a link," said Nano.

"Found it," said Lalna. The TV screen settled on a video streaming site. There was a black square in the center of the screen, a pair of spam banners and few scattered buttons that were probably all phishing scams. Nilesy got up out of the papasan chair and came to stand next to Nano.

"Trell," he said. "Is there any sort of camera hooked up to this TV?"

"Er," said Trell, looking at the motion sensor for one of his game systems, which was currently pointed at him, Nano, and Nilesy. "Sort of."

"Panda, stay out of frame and try not to make noise," Nilesy said.

"Gotcha," Panda said.

The black square flickered. The whole room held its breath. Lalna's eyes went dark.

A man nearly identical to Lalna appeared onscreen. His eyes glowed red, although he was smiling. His tongue peeked out between his lips for a moment. He nearly filled the frame—all Trell could see behind him was verdigris walls, brightly lit.

"Nano," he said, his voice deep and mellifluous. "It's good to see you. Been a while."

"What the fuck do you want?" Nano snapped.

His eyes shifted, and one eyebrow twitched.

"And Nilesy," he said. "That's a pleasant surprise."

"Is it?" said Nilesy.

"I was expecting the other sibling," Lalnable said.

"They weren't available for comment," Nilesy said, his lip curling.

"What a shame," Lalnable said. "How's Panda? I didn't notice him in the news coverage. Perhaps he was a bit slower getting out?"

"He's fine," Nilesy spat.

"Of course!" Lalnable said, laughing. His gaze shifted again, and Trell's stomach lurched. "And Trellimar the Janitor, of course."

"Custodian," Trell said, rapidly filling up with hatred.

"I do hope we didn't wake you," he said, the smile stretching out wider and wider. Trell flushed, suddenly acutely aware of his position in his bed.

"What do you _want,_ Lalnable?" Nano demanded. Her fists were clenched, her voice shaking.

"Oh, I just thought it was time we had a conversation," he said. "There's a couple more people here who'd like to talk to you."

He moved out of frame. Nano made a noise like she'd been punched in the gut. Panda took a step back, putting a hand over his mouth. Nilesy went rigid and water burst out of the kitchen sink.

Behind Lalnable, Lomadia was strapped to a large wooden chair. She was pale, hyperventilating, eyes huge and unfocused. Five was next to her, perched primly on a stepladder, grinning like a demon.

Lomadia's wings were gone.

 _"What the fuck have you done?"_ Nano screamed. Nilesy caught her before she threw herself at the TV. Five laughed.

"What's it look like, sweetheart?" she said, swinging one leg. Lalnable came to stand on Lomadia's other side, draping an arm across the back of the chair.

"Admittedly, slightly unplanned," he said, regarding Five fondly.

"But _so_ worth it," she said.

"Let go of me," Nano snapped, wrenching herself free from Nilesy's grasp. She was crying. "Lom, sweetheart, can you hear me?"

Lomadia blinked, her head twitching erratically.

"Nano?" she mumbled.

Lalnable struck her, a backhanded blow so fast it was little more than a blur. Lomadia cried out as blood started to pour from her nose. Five laughed again, then reached up and pulled Lomadia's hair.

"Didn't we tell you not to talk?" she said, patronizing. "That stubborn streak's getting you into trouble again."

"Take your _fucking_ hands off her!" Nano snarled.

"Nano," Nilesy said.

"No no, don't interrupt," Five said. "This is _too_ good."

"What the _fuck_ do you want?" Nano demanded, her voice cracked in three places. "What the fuck do you _want_ from me?"

Five grinned, euphoric.

"I'm getting it right now," she said. "Boss? Any demands?"

"Just one," said Lalnable. His face went hard, his voice soft. "Tell her everything's going to be all right, Nano. Tell her it won't hurt. Lie to her. Like you lied to me."

Nano stared at the screen. Her fists clenched at her sides. Tears spilled down her cheeks, unheeded.

"Go to _hell,"_ she said, her voice trembling.

Lalnable laughed.

"It's funny," he said, "because Rythian said the same thing, hahah. And guess where he is now."

"Unless you've got a body to hand, you can quit with that," Nilesy snapped.

"Oh, but I _have!"_ Lalnable said brightly. "Should I show them, Five?"

"Please, do," Five leered.

Lalnable moved away from Lomadia and picked up the camera. The footage was steady as he moved through the room to a steel refrigerator. Trell took the opportunity to get out of bed, to come and stand on Nilesy's other side.

"Stalling for time?" Trell whispered to him.

"We ran out of time weeks ago," Nilesy returned, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Lalnable flung open the refrigerator door. Panda hissed in a breath through his teeth. Garion gasped. Nilesy went hard as stone. Nano just stood, taut and furious and crying.

There was a large collection of glass jars in the fridge, each containing an organ. There was a heart, displayed prominently; a matched set of kidneys, sitting in front of a pair of lungs; something dark red and very smooth that might have been a liver; a tongue, a tangle of intestines, a voltaic node.

Lalnable reached in, behind the liver, and plucked up a small jar. He swirled it gently, agitating the fluid, showing it off.

Inside it, a pair of ice-blue eyes tumbled around each other like tadpoles.

"Unfortunately, he's no longer _quite_ in mint-condition," Lalnable said, and laughed. He set down the jar of eyes and turned the camera to face himself. "He ended up being more trouble than he was worth, and we had to scrap him for parts. Convinced?"

Nilesy just shut his eyes and hung his head. Lalnable smiled, his eyes flickering yellow. He spun the camera again, pointing it back at Five and Lomadia.

"I think," he said, raising his voice, "it's time for the main event, don't you?"

"Oh, _yes!"_ Five cried, kicking her feet and clapping her hands. Lalnable brought the camera to its original spot and left it there, returning to Lomadia's side.

"Last chance, Nano," Lalnable said. "For whatever comfort you think you can provide."

"She's g'na kill you," Lomadia mumbled, though her voice was weak and blood was covering her lips.

"Mm, not so much," Five said, standing up on the ladder. She put a hand on Lomadia's face, stroking her eyebrow with her thumb. "And what did I _tell_ you about _talking?"_

The thumb jabbed into her eye. Lomadia screamed, thrashing. White smoke and black sludge poured from the wound. Nano clapped both hands over her mouth and staggered back. Trell swallowed down vomit.

Five pulled her thumb back out of Lomadia's eye, revealing the burned and blistered hole, the dripping gore. She stuck the digit in her own mouth. Trell had to turn away, sickened beyond his capacity to handle. In the kitchen, Panda was sitting on the floor, biting his hand and vibrating.

"What, nothing to say?" Five said, pouting. "All out of shouting for today?"

Nano just stood there, gasping into her hands. Lomadia had gone quiet. Trell hoped she was unconscious.

"So we'll call it there," Lalnable said, pleased. "But don't worry! There's _much_ more to come, ahah. I'd highly recommend tuning into Eurovision this year. I've got a feeling it's going to be _spectacular."_

"Signing off already?" Nilesy said suddenly, his tone casual. Trell looked over to see him regarding the screen flirtatiously and was seized by the conviction that he wasn't Nilesy at all. "But we've only _just_ got started."

"Well well, look who it is," Five sneered. "The least talented sibling."

Vee laughed, delighted. He crossed his ankles and draped his arm on Trell's shoulder, lounging on him like furniture. Trell didn't move. On the screen, Lomadia's head was slumped forward, blood dripping from her cheek and chin. She was breathing, but wasn't reacting to the conversation.

"Absolutely!" Vee said. "I've only got the one talent. Let's see, Nilesy's got _real human emotions_ and _being_ _abused_ _,_ Liam got the lion's share of the Powers and a shark fetish, Lalna had the lasers and the supercomputer brain, and Lalnable, _you_ got both of those, _plus,_ being _second best."_

The smile fell off of Lalnable's face and shattered on the floor.

"I was _always_ the best," he snapped. "Lalna replaced you, and _I_ replaced _Lalna."_

"Is that how you've been spinning it for yourself?" Vee asked. "Because the way _I_ heard it was, Lalna was the experiment, and you were the control. Or, in layman's terms, _Plan B._ It's even in your name."

"They failed. I didn't," Lalnable said, a hint of static fringing his words.

"Oh, yes you did," said Vee, waving a dismissive hand. "Funny thing, it took _four_ of us to take down Lalna. How many did it take to bring you down, again? Just two, wasn't it? Or no, wait, the _final_ confrontation was just you and Zylus, who by any metric was the weakest of the bunch."

"I never ~~went~~ down. I _survived."_

"No, no, I think _Lalna_ survived, because _Lalna_ was clever enough to have a backup. You built—what, six or seven of those drones? And not a single one with a brain in it. That's not even poor planning, that's just stupid. It's no wonder Xephos kept you locked up where nobody could see. Lalna might've wound up a failed experiment, but you! You're a fucking _embarrassment."_

"Boss, just hang up," Five said. "He's trying to get under your skin because he's got nothing else."

"You're a fine one to talk about getting under people's skin," Vee said, amused. "They had _reams_ of data about you at Strife Solutions. Very informative. Out of curiosity, d'you already know what that thing they put in your head did? And, more relevant, d'you know what all they took _out_ to make room for it?"

"Be ~~quiet~~ ," Lalnable snapped.

"Oh, _now_ he's onboard with the hanging-up agenda," Vee said, watching Five closely. "It does make you wonder, whether or not your _Boss_ perused the files at any point. D'you think he got a kick out of reading about you getting tortured? I know _I_ did."

"You're pathetic," Lalnable spat. "This idiotic attempt to turn us against each other—"

"Who said I was trying to do _that?"_ said Vee, grinning. "No, I know that's useless. I'm sure Five reprogrammed you the first chance she got, just to make sure you wouldn't get any wrong thoughts in that pretty head of yours."

"Hang _up,_ Boss," said Five. Her voice was, ever so slightly, shaking. "He's got nothing."

"Did you know, Lalnable, that you and your sibling don't keep change logs when you're being rebooted?" Vee inquired. "I'm not saying she's reordered your entire personality behind your back or anything, but, ahah, you do seem awfully _different_ from last time I saw you. S'pose that's unrelated."

"He's making shit up," Five said. "He can't do anything but talk, he's—"

"Though it's a bit funny, isn't it?" Vee went on, talking over her. "How she's got you playing second fiddle even though she's calling you _Boss._ Does that soften the sting a bit? Because you're _still_ coming in second, Lalnable. It's a _talent."_

"Boss, just fucking _hang up on him!_ For fuck's sake, you—"

"Don't interrupt, darling, the adults are talking," Vee said, dismissive.

Five's face twisted with rage and she drew a sharp breath. The video feed cut out. Vee cackled.

 _"God,_ too easy," he said, hideous with glee. "It's like _clockwork."_

Carefully, Trell extracted himself from under Vee's arm to go unplug the motion sensor and turn off the TV. In the corner, Lalna's eyes flickered back to life, still blue.

"Vee," Nano said. He turned to her, relaxed and confident.

"Yes?" he said.

She took a breath and swallowed.

"Thank you for that," she said.

"Nano," he said, "it was my _pleasure."_

He touched his forelock and swept an elegant bow, with much twirling of the wrist and flourishing of the hands.

When he straightened up, he was Nilesy.

Panda caught him as his knees gave, as tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. With Panda's help, he managed to get back to the papasan chair and subsided into it. He buried his face in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees.

"They're going to take it out on Lomadia," he mumbled. "God, I'm sorry, I thought—I dunno what I was thinking, I dunno why I thought—"

Nobody said anything. Panda hesitated, then put a hand on Nilesy's shoulder, reassuring.

"It was more than nothing, Niles," he said. "It was more than anybody else had."

"It actually helped a lot," Lalna volunteered, getting to their feet. "I got a pretty decent trace because they stayed on longer."

"Don't sound so fucking _chipper,"_ Nano snarled, rounding on them. Lalna recoiled, their eyes flashing white before turning orange.

"Sorry," they said, confused.

Nano put a hand over her face and shook her head.

"No," she said. "No, I'm—I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

She hurried away and shut herself in the bathroom. Lalna looked to the room, appealing.

"I had to shut down my interpersonal software," they explained. "It was too upsetting, I had to, or I wouldn't've been able to do anything. I was just trying to help."

"So where are they?" Nilesy asked, his voice flat and hoarse.

"Somewhere in the Caribbean," said Lalna. "It's a pretty big radius, but there was a _lot_ of mess to cut through to get even that much. I'd say Jamaica or Honduras, probably."

"Right," Panda said. "Okay. So that's—that's something. That's good."

Again, there was a silence. Trell glanced at Garion, huddled against the kitchen wall. There were tears crawling down his face, dripping from his chin. Trell looked away again.

"So what's the plan now?" he asked Lalna. "I assume you're still going to try and rescue Lomadia."

"And Rythian," said Panda.

A lead blanket settled on Trell's shoulders. He rubbed his eyebrow.

"Look, Panda—" he began.

"He's not dead," Panda cut him off.

"All right, there's optimism, and then there's stupidity," said Trell, smothering the horror in annoyance. Better not to care. Better to keep his distance. They were all going to end up dead anyway, probably by hurling themselves onto the spikes of some idiotic suicide mission. Better to cut ties now. Better not to care.

"They took that YogLabs fuck apart, didn't they?" Panda snapped. "They've got massive amounts of that serum, don't they? There's no telling if _most_ of that was even Rythian's, for fuck's sake! _I didn't see a fucking body,_ Trell, and until I do, he's not _fucking_ dead!"

Nilesy raised his head, giving Panda an approving look.

"It's not impossible," Lalna said. "Given enough time and the proper machinery, they could have removed and regrown a number of his internal organs. I'm not completely sure how the serum works, but they could also conceivably have grown all of their samples from, essentially, biopsies."

"Why bother?" Trell said.

"To upset us," said Lalna. "And obviously it worked. The whole point of getting in contact with us was just to upset us, I think. They seem to be incredibly petty people. If they've got something bigger planned—and it seems pretty likely that they do—then this was a _massive_ risk to take. They're so obsessed with revenge that it's getting in the way of their other plans. That might be another good thing we got out of Vee—if they don't feel like they've won, they'll call back."

"Somehow I don't think that trick's going to work twice," Nilesy said. He sniffled and wiped his eyes, then sat back in the chair, folding his arms. "But if they're planning to call back, they're not going to kill Lomadia in the meantime. They'd save that—save that for when we're watching."

"There's—um," Garion said. Panda jumped, Nilesy leaned forward, frowning, and Lalna sat up straighter.

"There's what?" said Trell.

"W-well, there's, um." He sniffled. "I—I know there's some kind of—of YogLabs facility, um, near Jamaica. I wasn't, really, um, supposed to know about it, nobody—um, nobody really was, but—but it's . . . out there."

"What sort of facility?" Nilesy asked.

"I don't—I don't really know?" Garion said. "Sorry. I wasn't even supposed to know it existed, I'm sorry, I just—I just thought that might help. With—with rescuing people."

"D'you know _where_ near Jamaica?" Panda asked.

Garion shook his head. His whole face wrenched up as he fought back tears.

"I don't," he moaned. "I don't know anything, I'm sorry, I'm totally useless, I'm really sorry—"

"I can't find any records of anything like that," Lalna said, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"I don't know! I don't know, I just know it was, like, _super_ Top Secret and nothing was ever written down and it's near Jamaica! That's all I know!"

"Who'd you hear it from?" Nilesy asked gently.

Garion sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"Um," he said. "Dr. Xephos, a-and Kirin. They talked about it. Not much, because, um, Dr. Xephos I guess noticed that I was in the room, and I wasn't supposed to be? So that's why I didn't hear much."

"You know an awful lot of awfully convenient things," Panda said, his eyes narrowing.

"No, no I don't, I just know a lot of things!" Garion said, raising his hands in surrender. "People just—just say stuff in front of me! I don't even know why you're angry!"

"Because, to quote _you,_ we don't even know who you are," he said. "All _I_ know about you is that you work for YogLabs and you've got some sort of fucked-up hero-worship for one of the fucks who wanted all of us dead!"

"Work _ed!"_ Garion squeaked. "I work _ed_ for YogLabs, and then they put me in prison!"

_"Why?"_

"Because I talked to a reporter, okay? Because I—I tattled! Because what they were doing was wrong and I couldn't just _let them_ anymore!"

The words rang through the flat. Panda bit his lip, looked at his feet, and sighed.

"All right," he said. "So what else do you know?"


	48. Chapter 47

Lalnable caught Five before she fell off the stepladder and broke something, cutting the camera feed remotely. She snarled and struggled until he let her go, at which point she rounded on Lomadia and lashed out at her.

 _"Five,"_ Lalnable said, exasperated. He took her by the arms and pulled her backward. She thrashed, screaming through her teeth. He held her up off the ground until she calmed down. The moment he put her down, she struck him in the gut with her elbow, which he took without flinching. It didn't hurt.

"That little _fuck!"_ she snarled. "How the fuck is he still there? I fucking _checked,_ they lobotomized him!"

"Maybe the records were falsified," Lalnable said, pacifying.

"By who?" she demanded. "Two _days,_ Lalnable, that's how long he'd been there! Two fucking _days!_ It couldn't have been Nano, and you know for fucking _sure_ it wasn't Lalna, so who the fuck did it? Was it you?"

"No," he said. "Of course it wasn't."

"Oh, of _course_ it wasn't," she said, her lip curling. "You built your stupid secret room, what the fuck else have you done behind my back? Why isn't Lalna dead? Why isn't _Nilesy_ dead? Why are neither of _your siblings_ dead, Lalnable?"

"I had nothing to do with it," he said. His fists clenched at his sides.

"No? Just like you had _nothing_ to do with the total fuck-up at Strife Solutions? Just like you had _nothing_ to do with them getting their filthy fucking hands all over my _files?_ How much did you read, Lalnable?"

"As much as I had to," he snapped. "I was under the impression you _wanted_ me to take their machinery out of your head."

"You're lying," she said, quivering with rage. "You're fucking _lying,_ to _me!_ How much else have you lied about? I fucking _know_ you were bullshitting me on Rythian's birthday, what the fuck else have you lied about?"

"I haven't! Look at you, Five, you're playing right into Vee's hands."

"I can _make_ you tell me," she threatened. "And while I'm in there, I'll finally fix your g—"

His arm snapped up with a piercing whine as the MaLAR primed. Five shut up on the instant.

"No," he said.

Five held very still. Slowly, the aggression eased from her stance, her face, although none of the tension did.

"Boss," she said gently. "Easy, calm down, it's all right. . . ."

She reached up to take his wrist. He stepped back. His aim did not waver.

"Don't touch me," he said.

"Hey, okay, all right! No touching, I gotcha. It's okay, Boss, nobody's gonna hurt you. Just take it easy, big guy. Shh, it's all right. It's me, you know I wouldn't hurt you."

"That's what Nano said before she decapitated me," he said. His voice was calm, factual. "As you would remember."

Five gulped, then backed up a step, raising her hands in surrender.

"Look at us, Boss," she said. "He really got to us, didn't he? This is silly. We're being so silly, hahah. You're not gonna shoot me, are you?"

"I haven't decided," he said.

Five paled. Her heart rate skyrocketed, the pulse fluttering hummingbird-quick in her throat.

"Nobody's got to get hurt, Boss," she said, her voice shaking. "Just—just calm down—"

"I am calm," he said.

"Boss, c'mon," she said. Sweat was beading on her forehead, her hands. "This isn't like you. This's gotta just be more of your—your Lalna programming kicking in. I know you wouldn't hurt me. I know _my_ Lalnable wouldn't hurt me."

His temperature was rising. Keeping the MaLAR primed was boiling the flesh on his wrist. He shut it down and lowered his arm. Five relaxed visibly.

"I'll clean up here," he said. "I don't need your help. You can leave."

"Sure, sure Boss," she said, nodding emphatically. "I'll be around whenever you need me. Mmkay? You know where to find me."

He didn't say anything, watching her. She flashed an insincere smile, then sidled away until she found a wall. She took a moment to get her bearings, then made her way out of the room. He waited until she was several rooms away before doing anything.

The first thing he did was tend to Lomadia. She was unconscious, so it was fairly simple to remove the destroyed eye matter and give the appropriate injections to grow it back. He could, theoretically, have just cleaned it and left it, but Five hadn't explicitly told him to and making repairs gave him a pleasant feeling of control. Guilt was stealing up through him, and shame along with it, and it was growing more difficult by the minute to reconcile himself with his actions.

He'd frightened her. He'd threatened her. Worst of all, he'd _distrusted_ her. He'd bought into Vee's fiction unquestioningly, perhaps partially because he really had read all of Five's files. He hadn't meant to, exactly—it was just easier to assimilate all the information at once. He'd deleted most of it once he'd figured out she hadn't wanted him to read it, though, so _functionally_ he hadn't read it at all. There was no reason to believe Vee was any more right about what Five had done behind Lalnable's back than he was about Lalnable's own activities. In fact, there was abundant reason _not_ to believe it. To his knowledge, Five had never been in his head at all. She'd helped get him in better working order after she'd found him in Nano's old lab, assisted with Walter Cornish, and made repairs, but never touched his mind.

Unless. . . .

Lalnable shook himself. If Five had done anything to him, it had been for the best, and he was better for it now. Besides that, she'd respected his wishes and left the residual Lalna-processes intact, even though they were clearly detrimental to both Lalnable and the overall plan. That, more than anything, assuaged his fears, although it didn't do much for the shame.

Plus, he still had one secret kept from her, one last failsafe, in case the worst happened again. He'd learned from his mistakes. He could always check.

At least this time, he hadn't been the only one getting played. Five had fallen for it, too, been manipulated the same way and with just as little finesse. He shouldn't have taken comfort from that, but he did.

At least it wasn't just him.

Lalnable cleaned the last of the blood and ichor off of Lomadia's face, then checked her eye to make sure it was responding properly. She regained some consciousness and started mumbling incoherently. Lalnable gave her a mild tranquilizer and she dropped off again. It wasn't technically necessary, but he didn't want to talk to anyone just now, or be talked at.

That done, he took a few minutes to clean up the theater. He turned off the projector, on which they'd been watching Nano's reactions. It was one of the few things in the base he couldn't access remotely, and for good reason—if he couldn't, no one else could, either.

He unstrapped Lomadia from the chair and carried her to her new cell. This one didn't have a hole in it. After making sure she had appropriate food and water for when she woke up, he started to leave. He only made it a few steps, though.

Rythian's old cell was right next to Lomadia's new one. All of the soft bedding, the cushions and pillows and blankets, were still in there. They weren't going to be used again, not by Five or Lalnable and certainly not by Rythian.

It took about five minutes to transfer the assorted items from one cell to the other and get them all laid out properly. He checked Lomadia's eye one last time—functioning nominally—and then left the little wing they'd cordoned off to be their prison block. There was still a terrific amount to be done, and at least half of it needed to be done by him. He'd probably end up doing more than half, because he didn't need to sleep and Five did. He often had to remind her of this fact, to keep her from burning out completely, but she was still working herself to the bone. Time had wound up being much shorter than either of them had anticipated, and the extra layer of stress was clearly straining the relationship.

That, and the fact that both of them had been so unmanageably busy that they'd barely touched each other in days. Five had made a couple of attempts to remedy this, but Lalnable always found himself on the verge of overheating and had to turn her down. He couldn't give her the attention she deserved and make sure that the project got finished on time. Five had taken it hard, and it seemed like things had gotten even worse in the aftermath of the escape attempt. Rythian's comeuppance hadn't been as long or as involved as was deserved, but Lalnable had hoped it would at least put Five in a better mood. Recent data indicated it hadn't.

When it was over, he promised himself. When it was over and he had a body that worked and a mind that was all his own and just a little bit of _time,_ he'd make it up to her.

Maybe if he tried hard enough, she'd love him.

* * *

 

Over the next four days, things got progressively worse. No matter how hard he tried, Lalnable couldn't keep his worries from invading and eventually overrunning his thoughts. There simply wasn't enough that he could do at one time to fill his capacity. The more he tried to suppress the thoughts, the more of his processing power they swallowed. Eventually, he was no longer struggling to find more work to drown them out, but rather struggling to accomplish the tasks already set before him. It was as though the feelings had a mind of their own, and were directly attempting to sabotage him until their impulses were satisfied.

Finally, he had to concede. If he didn't get this tended to, he could end up compromised during the finale, which could get the both of them killed. He ought to have dealt with it before now, but there just hadn't been time. . . .

Lalnable put up the latest completed payload, then went to find Five. She was in the room she'd claimed as her office, drinking black coffee and eating popcorn. Lalnable watched her on the live feed as he made his way to her, trying to gauge her mood. It was difficult, since her back was to the camera. He assumed she was, as most days, short-tempered and sleep deprived.

The door was open when he got there, but he knocked anyway. Five didn't look away from her screen.

"Unless you've _miraculously_ finished everything, go away," she snapped. Evidently Lalnable's predictions had been spot on.

"I wanted to apologize to you," he said. "For how I behaved after—"

"What did I _just say?"_ she interrupted, slapping her hand down on the table.

"Five."

"If you haven't made enough time to fuck me, then fuck off," she said.

"I can make time," he offered meekly. "If that's what you want."

"What I _want_ is a partner who actually gives a fuck about the plan. What I _want_ is a partner who actually gives a fuck about _me,_ but I'm not getting one of them, so I've got to make do!"

"I don't understand," he said, frowning. "I do care about you. That's why—"

"Fuck off, Lalnable. Just go _away_ and stop trying to butter me up. I've got shit to do."

"I'm not—"

 _"What the fuck did I just say?"_ she screamed, rounding on him. Lalnable ducked his head and hurried away before he made it any worse. She slammed the door moments later.

Lalnable slunk back to his own room, his thoughts chugging and freezing up at random intervals. With such a spectacular failure now resting on top of all the other worries, it was unlikely he'd be able to get anything done unless he took some extreme measures. He would have to sort through all of these ridiculous feelings, get them named and untangled and set in their proper places, so that even if he couldn't give them what they wanted, he could promise it to them for long enough to shut them up. It was an immensely temporary measure, one that would cost him in the long run, but the short-term was so important that it was worth future turmoil. A few wasted hours now could make the difference between life and death. He could deal with the fallout when (if) he survived.

Stewing in shame and rejection, he sat down in the corner of his room, shut his eyes, and dropped into sleep mode.

* * *

 

Lalnable slipped into Rythian's cell as quietly as he could. Rythian was asleep, curled up and snoring lightly under his respirator. Lalnable settled onto the floor near him, patient, waiting. It wasn't long before Rythian woke up.

"Whzzt?" Rythian said, blinking owlishly. He propped himself up on one elbow. Lalnable smiled at him.

"Would you like to see a magic trick?" he asked.

"I—what?" said Rythian, confused.

"You had a very bad night and you're unhappy," Lalnable said. "I want to cheer you up. Magic tricks make _me_ happy, so I have devised a magic trick."

Slowly, Rythian sat up, all the way. His expression was suspicious, but interested.

"A magic trick from a robot," he said. "Okay, I think I have to see this."

Lalnable nodded, then handed a coil of thick copper wire to Rythian. He accepted it and turned it in his hands.

"What's this for?" he asked. Something flickered in Lalnable's vision. He paid it no mind.

"One end in each hand, please," Lalnable instructed. Rythian held it as he was told. He made a face and wiggled his fingers.

"So . . . is this the magic trick?" he asked.

"Yes," said Lalnable. "Watch."

He dropped an iron plug into the coil. It stopped halfway through, hovering in place, and began to spin slowly as it vibrated.

Rythian's jaw dropped, and he gasped. His eyes went wide and sparkling.

"Tada!" Lalnable chimed, glowing with pleasure.

"How is it _doing_ that?" Rythian cried, his voice cracking with excitement. The iron plug spun faster, held aloft by invisible forces. Its temperature was rising, nearly forty degrees Celsius already.

"Electromagnetism," Lalnable said. "You should let go before its temperature rises much further. It will eventually start to melt."

_"Melt?"_

"Yes. You should let go before then."

Rythian dropped the copper coil. Both it and the iron plug thumped into the soft substrate Lalnable had put down for him. A puff of smoke wafted up from the plug. Rythian laughed, fluttering his hands nervously. Lalnable watched him, filling with such light and warmth that it was like sitting in sunshine.

"You are very cute," he said quietly.

Rythian blushed and scratched the back of his head, looking anywhere but at Lalnable.

"I—well—thank . . . thank you," he sputtered. "You're—not so . . . yourself."

Lalnable blinked, shaking his head. He stuck a finger in his ear. His sensors must have been on the fritz. Nothing else would have explained the sound of Rythian's voice fading in and out like that, or the strange flickering in his vision. He took Rythian's hand, just to reassure himself that nothing bad was happening.

"You know I ~~love~~ you, don't you?" he said. A spark cracked through his head and he flinched. His own voice was going wrong, too. Maybe he shouldn't have touched Rythian—the electric tingle wasn't there, but maybe something else was happening. . . .

"——," said Rythian. "I . . . you t—"

Something was wrong. The whole room was glitching; visual sensors definitely on the fritz. Where were his system analytics? Why wasn't anything flagging up? He clutched Rythian's hand. The distortion was everywhere now, his own skin flickering between silver and white. It was boiling hot. His gyroscopes were completely out of whack.

"No," he said, clinging to Rythian, pulling on him. "Please, no, please—"

"L a l n a ," Rythian said, and the dream burst apart like a bubble filled with smoke.

Lalnable fell onto his hands and knees, gasping, burning in his skin. The floor was cold and hard. His skin ached for touch. Tears dripped from his eyes. The pain was terrible, unbearable, raking fire through his circuits. He pressed his forehead to the floor and clenched his jaw until his teeth cracked, dug his fingers into his chest until the skin broke and blood trickled down to his elbows.

No one spoke. Nothing moved. Rythian was not there.

He was alone.

No matter how he wept and bled, the pain would not stop. Something had broken, and it wasn't getting fixed. He couldn't fix it. It was too much, it hurt too much. Even numbness would have been better.

Slowly, Lalnable got to his feet. His vision was blurred with tears. There was no point in wiping them away; more would come to replace them. He turned, gripped by a clarity of purpose and an equal measure of dread. He made his way, step by step, to Five's room. He knocked. He stood for almost a minute.

The door opened. She looked up at him, scowling.

"What?" she demanded.

He knelt before her. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't know how else to ask.

"Take it out," he said, he begged, miserable and weeping. "Please. I don't want it anymore. I can't take it anymore. Get rid of it. Please."

Five's expression softened. She ran a hand through his fringe, small fingers with a touch just firm enough to feel.

"If you're sure," she said.

"I'm sure," he said.

She tucked his hair behind his ear, leaned in and kissed him. Her hand trailed to the back of his neck.

"I'll be gentle," she promised, her lips still brushing his.

"It doesn't matter," he said.

She kissed him again. Her finger pressed into the button on the back of his neck. His vision went white, his body locked up.

Like a long line of dominoes, his mind tumbled, thought by thought, into silence.


	49. Chapter 48

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?" Fox said, as Trell shuffled into xyr flat. "Who's dead?"

"As of right now?" Trell croaked. "Because the list's prone to changing."

"All right, Schopenhauer, come and have a sit," Fox said, taking him by the elbow and leading him to xyr sofa.

"Lalna's worked out what sort of facility Five and Lalnable relocated to," Trell said. His voice was flat and hollow, much as it had been on the phone earlier, when he'd called to ask if he could come over. "It's got a missile silo."

"Holy fuck," said Fox. "That's not a _YogLabs_ facility, is it?"

"Oh, it is," said Trell, bitter. "Apparently all you've got to do is follow the money, and what you find is eighty-one ICBMs tucked away in Tropical Area 51."

"Why the fuck has YogLabs got fuckin' missiles?" Fox demanded.

"Apparently the missiles themselves only got ordered in the last couple of years," said Trell. "So cheers to Lalnable on that one. But the facility's been there. This _is_ the same organization that burned down half of Scotland and built a pair of killbots within the last decade."

"Christ on a bike," Fox said. "So they're just gonna blow up the fucking world? That's their grand fuckin' plan?"

"Apparently," said Trell. "It's the Michael Bay approach to world domination. What it lacks in elegance it makes up for in explosions."

"What happened to their super-mutagen?"

"I don't know, Fox," he sighed, pinching his temples. "Right now I'm still coming to terms with the secret facility and the fucking _missiles."_

Fox shook xyr head. "Lemme guess who bankrolled it."

"If your guess is Strife Solutions, you'd be right. Unclear if stolen or given."

_"Gotta_ be given, right?" said Fox. "Even Strife's not fuckin' rich enough to just _not notice_ millions of pounds going missing."

"Difficult to say," Trell said. "Total cost was just over eight hundred million. If you've got four hundred pounds in the bank, and you lose eight pounds over the course of a year, are you going to notice?"

Fox raised xyr eyebrows, blinking.

"Un-fucking-believable," xe said. "I'm starting to see the reasoning behind all that _Eat The Rich_ bollocks."

"Only just now?" Trell said, cocking an eyebrow. Fox glared at him, and he shut his eyes, rubbing his face. "Sorry."

"God, you really _are_ out of sorts," said Fox. "Where's everybody else gone off to? Don't tell me anything's happened to them."

"Not yet," Trell said again. "They've relocated to Panda and Lalna's flat because it's got more rooms. They're meeting with a couple of YLPIDs right now, trying to work out what to do next. I figured somebody ought to catch you up on everything. In person, like."

"You could've asked me over to their place," Fox said.

"I needed a break from them," Trell said. "Everything's gone . . . pretty horrific, in the last few hours."

"How horrific?"

Trell told xem—about Lalna's continuing issues, about the message from Lalnable and Five, about the ensuing frantic brainstorming and fact-finding. When he'd finished, Fox sat in silence for a long time, biting xyr tongue and keeping xyr fists clenched tight in xyr lap. Xe breathed deeply, keeping xyr eyes focused on the coffee table in front of xem.

"Fox?" Trell said.

"They killed Rythian," xe said, and the words stung in xyr sinuses like soda water, and xe had to raise xyr head and look at the ceiling to keep from seeing the teary blur in xyr vision.

"Yeah," Trell said quietly.

Fox cursed vehemently and punched xyr own thigh. It didn't help. It probably wouldn't have helped if xe'd kicked the coffee table in half. Xe rested xyr elbow on xyr knee and put a hand over xyr eyes.

"Any way to blow up the fucking missiles whilst they're standing next to them?" xe asked, teeth bared.

"I don't know," said Trell. "We wouldn't want to do that anyways, because they've got Lomadia, too, and so far as we know she's still alive."

"Cock-sucking fuckheads," Fox spat. "What're Nano and them gonna do, then? Just fucking roll up on the missile base and—what, die instantly?"

"That's about the size of it," said Trell. "Assuming we can even find it, which is harder than you might think. The whole thing's completely off the grid. All we know is they're somewhere in the Caribbean. Lalna can't even find the missiles' systems to hack into them. We're flying blind, and I somehow doubt we're going to get much more insight once we get there."

Fox looked up at him, dread cutting through xyr fury and frustration.

"You're not going _with_ them?" xe asked.

"Well," said Trell, looking anywhere but at xem. "I s'pose I've got to."

"You don't," said Fox. "I'm sure as fuck not."

That was enough to get his attention back.

"You're _not?"_ he said, like it was inconceivable.

"Fuck no," said Fox. "Trell, listen, I'm fuckin' incredible at what I do, but this shit is so far out of my league it's a different _game._ It stings like hell, but I worked with Rythian for long enough to know, no matter how many toys I've got, no matter how good I am, I'm _never_ gonna be a match for any mutant on the fucking planet. I'm just not. And _especially_ not that batshit crazy fuckin' killbot nine-thousand, fuck's sake! If I go, I'm not gonna come back. That's all there is to it. So I'm not fuckin' going."

Trell bit his lip, dropping his gaze. Fox put a hand on his wrist, reassuring.

"And you haven't got to, either," xe said. "You've paid your dues, and then some."

He took a slow breath. He raised his eyes and met xyrs.

"Fox," he said, "I love you."

Fox stared at him. Every single word xe'd ever known had fallen out of xyr head. Xe could only sit there with xyr mouth hanging open, a crushing pain in xyr chest.

"And I'm going to come back," Trell went on, "because dropping a bombshell like that and then dying just isn't on. I'm coming back. That's a promise, from unkillable me to incredible you."

"What . . . Trell," Fox said. There were tears welling in xyr eyes and xe hated it. Trell took xyr hand in both of his.

"I've got to do this, Fox," he said. "Not because of them, not because of the world, not even because of you. Because of me. Because I've got to believe that somehow, despite everything, _I_ can change things. This is the one starfish I've got to throw back."

"What if you _die?"_ xe demanded.

"Then I'm shit at throwing starfish, aren't I," Trell said dryly. He squeezed xyr hand. "But I'm not going to die. This one time, this _one fucking time,_ I am going to _do something._ The world's a broken piece of shit, and I can't fix it, but I can damn well see to it that it gets properly saved. I can give the people who need it an extra chance or two."

"This isn't your mess," Fox said. "You haven't got to clean it up."

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm a custodian, Fox," he said. "It's in the job description."

"You fucking arsehole," Fox said. "You piece of shit. How long have you been hanging onto that?"

"Whole hours," said Trell, the other corner of his mouth turning up. "It's been growing on me. You know how they call nucleonic morphogens _Alchemists?"_

"If you start calling yourself a fucking capital-c _Custodian_ I'm going to shit myself," said Fox.

Trell burst out laughing. He dropped his gaze, bit his lips, then kissed xyr hand.

"I am going to come back, Fox," he said. "And when I do . . . if we could have some sort of talk. About . . . us. I think that'd be for the best."

"Save the world first, and then the relationship?" Fox asked, arching an eyebrow.

"We're not exactly long on time for the first bit," said Trell. "They dropped some pretty heavy hints that they had the fireworks planned for Eurovision."

"Eurovision that's happening in six fucking days?" Fox said.

"That'd be the one," said Trell. "Everyone'll be watching, and honestly, what better time to do something flashy?"

Fox chewed on this for a while. At last, xe sat back and propped xyr feet up on the coffee table, leaning xyr shoulder against Trell's.

"Go on and save the world then," xe said. "I'll kick about here making sure there's still a Bristol when you get back. On account of the mutant chaos and everything. Oh, and make sure your cat doesn't starve to death. Assuming _he's_ staying?"

"Thanks," Trell said, ignoring the quip. "Is it . . . that bad?"

"Yeah, I s'pose you wouldn't've been watching the news, what with the world-saving going on," Fox sighed. "It's pretty fuckin' bad. Most of the Division's fucked off entirely and there's a fuckin' exclusion zone for about a mile and a half around YogLabs. People're losing their shit, as you might imagine. Half a dozen car wrecks every hour from panicky shits trying to get the fuck out of Dodge. Couple buildings burned down already, and the power's still out for a good chunk of the east side, _and_ we've got a heat wave on the way. Dozens of YogLabs employees missing, presumed dead. Funny thing, though, nobody can find the mutants. Prevailing theory is they're in the sewers."

"God," Trell muttered, shaking his head. "And you're planning on _staying_ here?"

"With the level of panic, it's more dangerous to try and leave," Fox said. "Hence the car wrecks. Besides, it's _my_ job to look after people who've got targets on their backs, and there's plenty of _them_ running about. Related note, how the fuck did you get here without _noticing?"_

"I dunno," Trell said. He shrugged. "It seemed pretty quiet on the walk over. I s'pose I was a bit . . . absorbed."

Fox shook xyr head. "You're unbelievable," xe said.

There was another lull in the conversation. Fox started rubbing the back of Trell's hand with xyr thumb.

"When d'you leave?" xe asked.

"As soon as we can get a flight," said Trell.

Fox wiggled xyr nose.

"D'you know," xe said, "I think I know somebody who might be able to help with that."

* * *

 

Contrary to Fox's expectations, it was easy to schedule a short-notice meeting with Strife. His secretary called xem back within an hour and said Strife would see xem and Trell at three, if it was convenient. The secretary also offered to have an armored car pick them up, which Fox refused—better that they be able to get home on their own, if things went tits-up.

Driving through town was also surprisingly easy, although they had to reroute several times to get around police roadblocks. Apparently the people inclined to run had already run, and the rest had hunkered down.

Strife was hunkered down in a squat, unremarkable building that might have been a bank in a past life. Certainly, it was bristling with enough cameras, security guards, and armored cars to be one.

"At least he's not conspicuous," Trell remarked, as Fox pulled around back of the building after being cleared by the front gate security.

"No one would ever guess some rich fuck was cowering in here," Fox confirmed.

After a thorough security vetting and a twenty-minute wait, they were showed in to see Strife.

The office was windowless, severe. There were two doors, one that Fox and Trell had entered through and one to the left of the desk. Fox checked for cameras and didn't see any, although that didn't necessarily mean that there weren't any. There also weren't any other security personnel. This, more than anything, put Fox on edge. It meant Strife was either expecting xem to act as security personnel, or he was planning on doing his own securing.

Strife himself was seated behind the desk, looking as severe and as bland as the rest of the office. His hand rested on his red-and-black cane, fingers drumming.

"Shut the door," he said, as Fox and Trell entered.

Dutifully, Fox closed the door behind xem, although xe didn't take xyr eyes off of Strife. He smiled a tight little smile and gestured to Trell.

"So," Strife said. "To what do I owe the honor? I got a feeling you're _not_ here for the sake of doing your _actual_ job, otherwise you woulda called before now."

"We need a jet," said Trell. "A very fast one."

Strife barked out a laugh. "No way in hell," he said. "Lemme guess: _we_ refers to you and the Mutant Crew?"

"If by that you mean Nano and her friends, then yes," Trell said, surprisingly composed.

"Yeah, no way in hell," said Strife. "You done wasting my time? Is it my turn to make demands now?"

"We need it," Trell explained patiently, "to stop a pair of maniacs from destroying the world with a load of missiles that _you_ paid for."

"You don't _need_ a jet," said Strife. "You can fly commercial just like everybody else. And you better have already put in a request for vacation time, otherwise whenever you get back, you're fired."

"So you knew about the missiles, then," Trell said, his fists clenching.

"First of all, there aren't any missiles, because if there _were,_ I would've known about them," Strife said. "Second of all, even _if_ I believed this wacky crap you're making up, I _still_ wouldn't let you borrow any of my jets, because they're _my jets._ Sorry, Toffee, but you and the Mutant Crew are done taking advantage of my hospitality. Get your own damn jet."

"All right," said Fox, who'd had enough. "How about this: let us use your jet or I'll rip your arm off."

"Hah hah, real funny, why don't you take a—"

Fox vaulted over his desk and slammed both feet into his chest. Strife hit the ground hard. Fox planted a foot between his shoulder blades and pinned him to the floor, face-down. Xe grabbed his wrist and wrenched his arm up and he squealed like a pig.

"Lemme _rephrase,"_ Fox sneered. "Let us use your _fucking_ jet, or I'll rip your _fucking_ arm off."

"Hey, okay, easy," Strife said. He'd turned the color of sour milk. "L-look, they already stole my good jet, all right? I got one that can do about ten hours at a time, but the intercontinental's gone."

"Any idea where they took it?" Fox inquired.

"If I knew _that,_ you think I'd be sitting around here gettin' bullied?" Strife said, scowling.

Fox yanked again, and Strife yelped.

"Yeah, 'cuz you're a spineless piece of shit," Fox said.

"You are so _incredibly_ friggin' fired," Strife hissed through his teeth.

"Tough talk, from a guy who's about to get his fuckin' arm ripped off," Fox said.

"Yeah, tough talk from a chick who's gonna get arrested for aggravated assault," said Strife.

"We can upgrade to murder anytime!" Fox said brightly.

"Y'know, we sure as hell _can,"_ Strife snarled. He swung his cane up and planted the end of it in Fox's chest. There was a loud noise and something hit Fox in the chest like a fastball.

Xe staggered back, winded and disoriented. Strife struggled to get to his feet. Fox leapt at him. Xe yanked the cane out of his hand and clobbered him with it. He went out like a light. Fox stepped back, taking the cane with xem.

"Fucking _gun cane?"_ xe cried, shaking it in indignation.

"How are you—but—he—" Trell sputtered.

Fox turned to him. He was plastered against the door, waxen and wide-eyed. Xe rubbed the aching welt on xyr chest, then held up xyr hand to show Trell the strings of Kevlar sticking to it.

"I thought he might pull some shit," xe said.

"Oh," Trell said faintly, blinking. His voice shook. "I . . . thought today was just a binder day. Are you—all right?"

"Might've cracked a rib," Fox said, making a face. The pain had dulled to a red ache, but it felt deeper than just a bruise. Xe hefted the cane. "Whatever he's got in there is small-caliber, probably single-shot. Still would've killed me, though. And that's why we come prepared, Trelly-belly."

"Pity it didn't blow up in his face," Trell said.

Fox looked back at Strife. Xe looked down at the cane.

"I mean," xe said.

"Don't level the field," Trell said, peeling himself off the door. "Right now you're at aggravated assault, while he's sitting on attempted murder. Let's just go tell the others we'll be stealing the jet. And it'd better be in the very near future."

"You sure you don't wanna pop back and save us the trouble?"

"We arranged the meeting more than an hour ago and we'd be stealing the jet anyway. It wouldn't help and it wouldn't give us much extra time." He paused. "Unless you want me to, so you haven't got to deal with a broken rib."

"Nah, save your charges," Fox said. "I've got an idea, anyway. Should buy us a couple of hours."

"What is it?" Trell said, apprehensive.

"I'm gonna tie him up and stuff him under his desk," Fox said. "Teach him to shoot _me."_

Trell paused.

"Can I help?" he asked.

* * *

 

The next few hours were a mad scramble, of such speed and intensity that they all blurred together in Fox's memory. At some point they'd met up with Nano, Lalna, Nilesy, and Panda. At some point Fox had been introduced to a couple of YLPIDs, who were delighted to hear that xe was planning on sticking around to help with disaster management. Fox wasn't sure, but Garion might have been with them—xe did recall that he'd thanked xem profusely for the use of one of xyr spare binders, and that xe'd told him to keep it. There had been the long and difficult journey to Strife's private airport outside of Bristol, during which they'd narrowly avoided wrecking the car a dozen different times. There had been the nail-biting, sweat-soaked discussions with the ground crew, the smooth-talking and subtle hacking, followed by the interminable wait for a pilot and arrangements for refueling points.

After no time at all, Fox found xemself standing on the tarmac with goodbyes barreling towards xem at the speed of sound. The sun was setting, and there was a smell of wet asphalt and petrol. Strife's jet sat on the tarmac, red and black, sleek as a seal. The six of them stood in a huddle while the ground crew made preparations around them.

"It should be pretty straightforward," Nano said. "We're stopping in Dublin and New York to refuel, but that shouldn't take huge amounts of time. Total travel time is—" She looked to Lalna.

"Eighteen hours," they said. "Less, if we've got a good tailwind."

"Right," said Nano. "That should give us plenty of time to plan what we're going to do when we land."

"In general: work out where the fuck they've gone," said Panda.

"Which presumably, someone will know," said Nilesy. "Can't imagine it's every day you've got a Strife Solutions jet coming down with a crew that odd-looking."

"And once we know _that,_ we go kick the shit out of them," Panda finished.

"Assuming we haven't been killed by then," said Trell.

"Assuming that," Nano sighed. She looked back over her shoulder at the plane, then turned to Fox. "You're sure you'll be all right here?"

"More all right than I would be with you fucks," Fox said.

Nano tipped her head in allowance. "Probably true," she said. "You've got Zoey and Fiona's numbers?"

"Uhh, I think so, hang on," said Fox. Xe checked xyr phone, then gave Nano a thumbs-up. "Yeah, got 'em."

"Good," said Nano. She took a deep breath. "I s'pose there's not much left to do but go."

"Have fun, kick arse and don't die," said Fox.

"Hell yeah," said Panda. He fistbumped xem, then turned and set off across the tarmac, mounted the rolling staircase, and ducked into the plane.

"I'd—better go make sure he doesn't trash the place," Nano said.

"Seriously?" said Fox, folding xyr arms.

Nano considered it for a moment.

"I'm going to go help him trash the place," she said.

"There you go," said Fox. Xe shook Nano's hand, and Nano set off as well.

"Good luck," said Lalna. "You can call me if you need something, but I can't guarantee I'll be free to answer."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Fox. Lalna waved, and then they, too, were gone.

Nilesy hesitated, looking back over his shoulder at the jet. He fidgeted.

"Fuck's sake," said Fox. "D'you want a hug?"

"I—was that on the table?" he said, frowning.

Fox opened xyr arms and made a face. Nilesy wrinkled his nose, then punched xem lightly in the chest. Fortunately, he happened to pick the side where xe _hadn't_ been shot.

"Don't go having _feelings_ at me," he said.

"Get bent, you ginger bastard," said Fox, grinning.

And then there was only Trell, standing at Fox's side, hands stuffed in his pockets and shoulders slumped.

"Last chance," he said, looking at xem askance. "We could use somebody running ground control."

"Last chance," Fox retorted. "I could use a not-dead boyfriend."

The corner of Trell's mouth pinched and his eyes twinkled.

"I'll keep an eye out for one," he said.

Fox put a hand on the back of Trell's neck. Xe stood up on xyr toes and kissed him.

"I love you too," xe said, very quietly.

"Thanks," he said.

Fox took a step back and punched him in the shoulder, just hard enough to make him wince.

"Try not to look too stupid when you get yourself killed," xe said.

"I'll die in the coolest position possible," Trell said.

"You're gonna die with your thumb up your arse and you know it," said Fox.

"Fuck off, Fox," he said, fighting down a smile.

"No, you," xe said, winking at him.

He flipped xem off, walking backwards, then turned and ambled up the stairs into the jet. Someone pulled the door shut behind him as the ground crew started clearing the area.

Fox rolled xyr eyes, then started back towards xyr car.

"Right," xe said to xemself. "Time to kick arse and not die."


	50. Chapter 49

They were about two hours out of Dublin when somebody finally noticed the knife.

It had been fairly inconspicuous before, tucked away in Panda's belt, but now he had it out and was flipping it open and closed, switching his grip, tossing and catching it. The movements were familiar, but rusted over. He kept his jaw clenched, his focus narrow, trying to ignore the taste of bile on the back of his tongue, the itching of his hands. After forty minutes of doggedly smacking himself in the knuckles with the blade, Nano came over and sat across from him.

"Is that new?" she asked.

"No," said Panda, not pausing. There were several shallow cuts on his hand, oozing blood. "It's Rythian's. Technically it _used_ to be mine, but I chucked it at Rythian ages ago and he kept it for some fucking reason. I stole it out of his room while we were back at the flat."

"Right," said Nano. "So you're just . . . bringing it along to give it back to him?"

Panda glanced up at her.

"If he wants it," he said.

"I'm sure he could find a use for it," she said.

Panda flicked the knife closed and set it down. He wiped some of the blood off his hand with his thumb, keeping his eyes down.

"More use than I could, apparently," he said. "Brought his mask, too. I figure he'll definitely want that."

For a moment, there was only the roar of the jet's engines. Trell was asleep (or pretending to be) in one of the fat first-class seats, while Nilesy was making coffee in the flight attendant's station. Lalna was sat by one of the windows, hands folded in their lap, eyes closed, presumably sorting through more of their backlog. The two pilots had shut themselves in the cockpit, and the rest of the Strife Solutions crew were lounging in the back of the plane.

"I'm listening," Nano said.

"I don't want this bit of myself back," Panda blurted, pain lacing every word. "When I put it down, when I—when I got rid of it, it was like cutting off a fucking _hand,_ but it was a horrible, necrotic, blood-soaked hand and it—it had to go! It _had_ to go, and it was so _fucking_ hard to get on without it, and I don't want it back, but I dunno what the fuck else I'm meant to do! I dunno what else I _can_ do!"

He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes angrily. Nano said nothing, just watching him.

"I don't want to be that me anymore," he said. "I don't ever want to be in a position where—where it's _that easy_ to fuck up _that bad._ I just . . . I don't want this. But I haven't got anything else."

"What did you do at YogLabs?" Nano asked.

"Almost got fucking killed," Panda said.

"Before that. I assume there _were_ bits before that, considering Garion talked about you like you'd hung the moon."

Panda made a face. "I dunno," he said. "I couldn't fucking see anything, so mostly I just hit anything that moved until it stopped moving."

"That seems like a legitimate approach," said Nano.

"I—I just . . . I don't know, I don't like going in empty-handed," he said, resting his cheek on his hand. Idly, the other hand started flipping the knife open and shut again.

"You could get one of those things that Fox has," Nano said. "Blunt instruments, sort of a thing."

"Oh, sure, but where am I gonna get a billy stick at _this_ hour?" Panda drawled, rolling his eyes.

"We could probably find you something," said Nano. "We'll have a little bit of time, at least."

Panda sighed, discontented. "It won't be the same," he said.

"I thought that was the point," said Nano.

He made a face, then inclined his head in allowance. He fiddled with the knife.

"It . . . feels so much like last time," he said. "It feels _just_ the same, and it feels like it's going to go _exactly_ the same way. And I don't want it to, but maybe it's got to. And this time it won't be—"

He broke off, glancing at Nilesy, who was kicking Trell in the leg and holding two cups of coffee. Panda turned back to Nano, but kept his voice down.

"It won't be Zylus, this time, it'll be Lal," he said. "It scares the shit out of me, but—but—"

"But there might not be another choice," Nano said.

"No, there'll be a choice," said Panda. "There's always a choice. But I don't know if I'm gonna be _capable_ of choosing right. I don't even know if I got it wrong last time."

"Fair enough," Nano sighed. "I've . . . been getting the same sort of thing. With—with the fact that we're probably going to have to kill Five and Lalnable. Which honestly, I _should_ be delighted about, I should be—I should be looking _forward_ to that, after what they've done to Lom, after _everything,_ and I do hate them, and I do want to hurt them, but . . . I also want there to be another way. I want _some_ sort of out, but I think if I waste my time chasing after one, the people I care about are going to die. I s'pose I feel like there isn't a choice because one of the options is so obviously the wrong one."

Up front, Nilesy was now threatening to pour the hot coffee on Trell if he didn't sit up.

"Maybe . . . we'll get more than once chance," Panda said, and cocked a thumb at the two of them. "Y'know. To get it right. If it comes to that. Not saying we should take unnecessary risks, but . . . y'know. If it comes to that. If we choose wrong."

 _"You pour that coffee on me and I'll throttle you,"_ Trell threatened, barely audible over the engines.

 _"Don't tempt me,"_ Nilesy said, grinning. Trell glared at him. Nilesy offered the coffee, which Trell took. He then immediately turned his back on Nilesy, at which point Nilesy went and sat behind Trell's seat and started kicking it.

"At least _they're_ getting on all right," Nano said. "I was scared half to death, leaving the two of them alone together."

"Why'd you do it, then?" Panda asked.

"Triage, essentially," Nano said. She sat back and rubbed her temple. "It was the arrangement with the fewest potential deaths. I didn't . . . account for Lalna. Although I dunno, if I'd brought Nilesy back with me. . . . I dunno. It might've been worse. I'm trying not to think too much about it."

 _"If you don't knock that off, I'm going to pour this coffee on_ _you,_ _"_ said Trell, glaring over the back of his seat.

 _"Knock what off?"_ Nilesy asked, continuing to kick.

"It seems like everything went about as well as it possibly could have, under the circumstances," Panda said.

"God," said Nano. "You _know_ it's bad when _this_ is the best-case scenario."

"I dunno," Panda said, watching Nilesy with his chin in his hand. "It's got some silver linings."

Trell raised up his coffee cup threateningly. Nilesy pulled both legs up into his seat and wrapped his arms around them, grinning his head off.

 _"Hi,"_ he said. _"Enjoying the flight?"_

 _"Yeah, I'm getting a real kick out of it,"_ Trell said, deadpan. Nilesy burst out laughing.

"Like," Panda went on, "I honestly don't remember the last time I saw Niles . . . _happy."_

"It's been awhile," said Nano. "I . . . didn't really realize how much I'd missed it."

Panda looked over at her, dubious.

 _"You'd_ missed it?" he said.

"Look, he's my adopted kid's half-brother," Nano said. "I'm entitled to—to get a bit attached."

He considered this for a moment, his lip pushed up against his nose, then winced and tipped his head back.

"Nope, I just started thinking about the family tree, it's _super_ messy," he said.

"Less of a tree, more of a knot?" Nano said, arching a brow.

"We've really got to get out more," Panda confirmed. "At this rate, anybody dating anybody is practically incest."

"Oh, God," said Nano. "That'll teach me to adopt strays."

"I mean, half the difficulty comes from Niles being a serial dater," said Panda.

"And the other half comes from Rythian doing the same thing," said Nano. Panda snorted.

"D'you know, he told me he'd had a crush on everyone he'd ever met?"

"I'd believe it," said Nano. "Poor sod."

 _"Holy fuck, they've got_ _Birdemic,_ _"_ Nilesy said. He leaned forward and shook Trell's seat. _"Trell! Come back here, I need to ruin your life."_

 _"That's not enticing,"_ said Trell.

_"It's important! How can you go your whole life without seeing fucking_ _ Birdemic? _ _It's a disasterpiece."_

_"It's a what?"_

"He'll be there," Nano said quietly. Panda tore his attention off the other two and turned it back to her. He shrugged and looked at his hands.

"I know," he mumbled. "Of course he will."

"You don't sound like you believe that."

"I've _got_ to believe it," said Panda. "Y'know, Rythian's not good at taking care of himself, but—he's really fucking good at _surviving._ Like, how long was he homeless for, a decade? That takes, like, skill. _And_ with blood filling up his lungs for most of it. He's . . . I know he's not going to be _okay,_ but I've got to believe he's still alive. I've—I've got to have faith that it'll be all right."

"That sounds like something Lom would say," Nano said, approving. Panda glanced up at her. She was trying to smile, but had only made it halfway. He hesitated, then reached across the aisle and chucked her on the shoulder.

"She's gonna be all right, too," he said. "She's like, the best at being all right."

"Oh, I know," Nano said. "We're only going so she'll have an audience when she saves the day."

"Cry havoc and let slip the owls of war?" Panda said.

Nano's smile became sincere.

"Exactly," she said.

* * *

 

Contrary to expectations, the police were not waiting for them when they landed in Kingston. The Strife Solutions crew made themselves busy doing all the usual post-flight activities, and their passengers were allowed to depart unhindered. They were allowed to pass through Customs and Border Control with relative ease, and were soon on their way.

"What're the odds Strife decided to check if there were really missiles and ended up finding them?" Panda said to Trell, as they exited the airport. The sun was blindingly bright, the air so humid it felt like stepping into a sauna. There was a smell of hot asphalt and rotting fish. The streets were crowded, with cars and bicycles and tourists galore.

"Slim to none," said Trell. "I'm guessing Lalna might've had a hand in it."

"Had a hand in what?" Lalna said, looking back over their shoulder.

"The fact that we've not being arrested," said Panda.

"Not really," said Lalna. "Nilesy might have, though. He was on the phone almost the whole time we were stopped in New York."

"He was?" said Panda.

"I _was?"_ said Nilesy, hurrying to catch up to their conversational knot. "I thought I slept through New York. Didn't I?"

"You definitely didn't," said Trell. "Stayed on the plane while the rest of us popped into the airport, but you were awake."

Nilesy pulled his phone out of his pocket, then shaded it with his hand and squinted at it. Under the blazing sun, the screen looked completely black to Panda. After about thirty seconds of squinting and scowling and scrolling, Nilesy stuffed it back in his pocket.

"Apparently I made some calls," he said stiffly.

"Who to?" Panda asked, uneasy.

"Strife, and Isabel Peculier," said Nilesy.

"Well, whatever you did, it seems to have worked," said Trell.

"For now," Nilesy muttered.

It wasn't long before they managed to get onto the trail of Five and Lalnable. Nano pulled some weight with her YogLabs credentials, and Trell carried off some very smooth talking, and within the hour they were headed down to the docks. There they found an empty berth and a lot of gossipy dockworkers who were all too happy to talk about the remarkable Brits and their remarkable loads of cargo (and the remarkable amount they'd paid for help shifting it), but who had absolutely nothing helpful to say about them.

Five and Lalnable had gotten on a boat here eight days ago, and that had been the last anybody had seen of them.

Jet-lagged, dehydrated, and stymied, the crew found a hotel to reconvene in. The décor was kitschy and overdone, the rooms small and smelling pungently of potpourri, but it was air conditioned and there were places to sit down, so overall it could have been worse. They'd also managed to find good food nearby, and had spent most of the first twenty minutes digging into ackee and salftish.

"No tracking devices?" Nano asked Lalna, poking at the last of her curried rice. "No GPS, nothing?"

"Nothing," Lalna confirmed. "Whatever boat they used must've had just about everything stripped out of it beforehand. I'm guessing Lalnable used his own systems to navigate."

"How the fuck did he find this place, if we can't?" said Panda.

"Insider knowledge?" Trell guessed. "That or he swept up all the breadcrumbs as he was following them."

"Could be a combination of both," Nano sighed. "The important question is, how _are_ we going to find it?"

"We know it's to the southwest," said Panda. "Between here and Honduras, right?"

"Somewhere," said Lalna. "That's not actually super helpful. There's over two hundred thousand square kilometers of open ocean where they could be, and the base itself is probably only the size of this building."

"Needle in a haystack," said Trell.

"Couldn't we just, like, take the jet and fly over?" Panda said.

"We'd have to go back and forth dozens of times, at least," Nano said. "If they're planning on kicking things off on Eurovision, we've only got five days, and I don't know if that'd be enough. And that's assuming we could even see anything from the air. If the base is camouflaged in any way—which, let's be honest, it most likely is—we could easily miss it."

"Boat, then?" said Panda. "No, that'd take even longer, never mind."

"I could find it," Nilesy said slowly, his lips pressed to the backs of his thumbs. "Might take me a couple days, but if I go down there, I can find it."

"What're you going to do, talk to fish?" Trell demanded.

Nilesy lifted his head and gave Trell his most winning smile.

"They're far better conversation than you," he said sweetly.

"Wonderful," said Trell. "We've been landed with the most useless member of the Justice League."

"I'd like to think I trend more towards Poseidon than Aquaman," Nilesy said, eyes twinkling. Trell arched a brow.

"A bit full of ourselves, are we?" he said.

Nilesy grinned even wider. "If you'd prefer it, we could be full of each other," he said.

"I'm taken," Trell said, maybe a little too quickly.

"That's not _necessarily_ an obstacle," Nilesy said, resting his chin on his hand. "Provided you've got the proper communication skills. Which I doubt you do, honestly. Can't even talk to _fish."_

Trell made a face, pursing his lips.

"I'm going to go back in time _just_ to come up with a good response to that," he said. "You can't keep getting away with it. Next time round, I'll be ready."

"You won't," Panda said. "No one's ever ready for Niles."

Trell turned his glare to Panda, now looking wounded and betrayed.

"I thought we were _friends!"_ he whined.

"We are," Panda said. He leaned in, holding up a hand by his mouth to whisper loudly to Trell. "He doesn't like it when other people win."

"Oy," Nilesy said. "That's enough from you."

"I'm helping!"

"You're a bloody menace, is what you are."

"Nilesy," Nano cut in. "How much time?"

"Three or four days," Nilesy said, sobering. "At most."

"That's still cutting it awfully close," said Nano. "You're _sure_ you can find it?"

"If it's underwater, I can."

"Do we think it's underwater?" Trell said, frowning.

"I got a pretty good look at the shape of the place, while Lalnable was giving us that whirlwind tour," Nilesy said. "Whole room was a big dome, plus a couple of airlock doors. Besides, if you're mad scientists looking to blow up the fucking world, how are you going to pass up a fucking Sealab?"

"The rest of us can do the plane method, while you look," Nano said. "Just in case. It'll be better than sitting about, anyway."

"I don't mind waiting here, if we need a liaison," Trell offered.

"Good plan," said Nano.

"S'pose I'll just call you whenever I find it?" Nilesy said.

"It's probably better if you keep your phone off, just in case," said Lalna. "You can put it in a plastic bag, and then whenever you find the place, just turn it on. If you don't mind me tracking your phone for a bit."

"Seems reasonable, under the circumstances," said Nilesy. "Anything to save time."

"Okay," said Nano. "So when d'you want to head out?"

He thought for a moment, brow furrowed, lips pinched.

"Tonight," he said. "Midnight or later, for preference. It might get . . . loud."

Trell shot a dubious look at Panda, who just shrugged in response.

"Understood," Nano said. "Is there anything you need in the mean time?"

Nilesy thought about it.

"A nap," he said.

* * *

 

Panda had been sitting out on the hotel's back porch for a while, drinking a soda (full sugar, because why not) and thinking. The sun had gone down, and much of the crowd had migrated to better party spots. It was a warm night, clear, with a light breeze that carried the smell of the sea.

It was strange, he thought, to be languishing in paradise while such ruinous things loomed just over the horizon.

Slowly, he became aware of someone standing near him, leaning on the porch railing. He pulled himself out of his musings and looked up.

"Can I borrow you?" Nilesy asked. The warm, orange light played through his hair, cast soft shadows on his face and throat.

"Uh—yeah," said Panda, setting his soda down and getting to his feet. "What for?"

Nilesy's only answer was to tip his head, beckoning, and then set off towards the beach. Panda followed him, apprehensive.

"So . . . d'you really think you can find them?" Panda asked, once they were clear of the porch.

Nilesy made a face. "I can't," he said. "Liam can."

"Wait, seriously?" said Panda. "Like . . . how, though?"

"Well, the whole thing'll be disrupting currents, causing vibrations, heat differences. . . ."

"And in the _entire fucking ocean,_ he can pick up on that?"

He shrugged. "He seems confident."

"Wow," Panda said, at a loss.

The conversation promptly rolled over and died. The two of them walked through the streets, away from the lights and noise of the city, and then along the pale sands of the beach until the noise of the surf was the only thing to be heard. Nilesy continued on for a few minutes more, then came to a stop, only a meter or so from where the waves were washing up. Panda stood near him, not quite close enough to touch. Overhead, the stars were dim, smothered by the light pollution from Kingston. The sea was dark as ink, inscrutable.

Nilesy took a deep breath. He rolled up onto his toes and back again. He sighed through his teeth.

"I can't say that I'm sorry about what happened to Zylus," he said softly. "But I'm sorry that you lost your best friend. And . . . your boyfriend, as well. Sort of in the same fell swoop. It must hurt like hell, and . . . I'm sorry that I contributed to that hurting."

Panda swallowed, blinking back tears.

"Niles, you don't—you don't have anything to be sorry for," he said. "I don't blame you. For any of it. For anything that happened . . . back then. And, I know it's not worth much, but I'm sorry for—for what you went through. I'm sorry I didn't help."

Nilesy inclined his head.

"Thank you," he said. He looked askance at Panda. "D'you want to help now?"

"Um," said Panda. "Yes?"

"I'm going to need you to hold me under," said Nilesy.

Panda's eyes went wide. He leaned back.

 _"Um?"_ he said.

"I'm not going to be able to do it myself," Nilesy said, turning his eyes back to the sea. "Not in salt water. So I'm going to need you to hold me under."

"Hang on, is that why you asked me to come out here?"

"About half," Nilesy admitted. "It was also so that if this conversation went poorly, I could just jump in the ocean and never come back."

Panda hesitated.

"Are you going to come back?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," said Nilesy.

"Well," Panda said, even as his heart sank. He gestured to the ocean. "After you."

Nilesy glanced at him again. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

"Thanks, Panda," he said.

He walked into the surf, wading out until he was elbow-deep. Panda followed him, picking his way through the black water, certain that something was going to bite him. Finally, he stood before Nilesy, facing the sea, gentle waves washing up to his chest. At least it was warm.

"Um, so," said Panda, holding his hands up halfway between them. "How . . . how d'you want me to—"

Nilesy cracked a smile, regarding him affectionately.

"Rythian's been rubbing off on you," he teased. "Never _used_ to be this awkward."

"Stop," Panda said, flushing. Nilesy took his wrists and guided his hands to his chest, just below the collarbones.

"Don't let go," he said, looking Panda in the eyes.

"I—I won't," Panda promised, his heart in his throat.

Nilesy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He shut his eyes and sank beneath the waves. Panda spread his feet and bent his knees, locked his elbows. Nilesy was still holding his wrists. The waves came up to Panda's shoulders at their highest, threatening to lift him off his feet.

It didn't take long for Nilesy to start struggling. At first it was a twitch, an involuntary spasm. He tried to kick off the bottom. Panda held him under. He yanked at Panda's wrists. Panda grabbed a double handful of shirt. Nilesy thrashed and Panda fought to keep him down. The first gasp of water into Nilesy's lungs came with a horrible convulsion, tortured.

There was a concussion like the foreshock of an earthquake. The whole ocean went still as glass.

Nilesy hadn't stopped thrashing, although he was getting weaker. Panda's heart thundered in his ears. A faint current stirred, dragging at the sand Nilesy was kicking up.

"It'll be over soon," Panda promised, as Nilesy writhed in his hands, his face twisted with agony. "Just—just hang in there, Niles, it'll be okay—"

The current was picking up, faster and faster, like a riptide. Water flooded past him, nearly tearing him from the ground. He looked up the beach to see the sea receding, pulling back and back and back, exposing shells and sunglasses and hair ties. The water sank to Panda's elbows, then his waist. He dropped to his knees and forced Nilesy down to the sand.

"Niles!" he cried. "Nilesy, stop doing that! Stop doing that, it's not helping!"

But the tide was inexorable, sand scouring Panda's legs as the sea rushed back. A huge mound of water was piling up offshore, marbled with foam and riddled with debris.

"Hang in there," Panda said to Nilesy, terrified and breathless. "Just hang in there, c'mon Niles, it's almost over, it's gonna be over soon—"

The water went past his elbows again, then his wrists. Panda put a hand behind Nilesy's head. He heaved him upright and clutched him against his chest. Nilesy coughed up a single dribble of salt water onto his shoulder, clutching at him weakly.

"Runway's clear," Panda whispered, as the last of the sea rushed away hissing.

He ran.

Spray lashed his face, and he shut his eyes. There was nothing to run into, only over. He hit two hundred kilometers per hour before he hit the water. It was rock hard under his pounding feet, slick as ice. He kept running until he slipped and both he and Nilesy plunged headlong into the sea. Nilesy fought him, and Panda barely managed to keep his own head above water, even as he held Nilesy's beneath it. The sea was turbulent, disturbed, like a swarm of insects. His eyes and nose and mouth were all full of seawater.

Finally, finally, Nilesy went limp in Panda's arms. A trickle of blood drifted from his nose, stringy in the water. His eyes were closed. Panda kept him under, just in case it wasn't really over.

Behind Panda, there was a roar like a freight train. He looked back over his shoulder to see the mound of water crash in against the beach in a single massive wave. It rolled all the way up to the high tide line, spitting spray and sand and debris everywhere.

He was a long ways from shore.

Nilesy still wasn't moving. Panda turned his eyes back to him, fear clutching his heart. He hung like a corpse in the water, bobbing with the waves, his hair drifting around his face like spider silk. Panda wasn't sure he could drag the both of them back; he wasn't even sure he could get himself back. There was only blackness below, no sign of the bottom. His toes were cold, brushed by deeper currents. His legs were jelly, his lungs burning after the mad sprint. Panda held Nilesy with both arms, fighting to stay afloat.

"Niles?" he said. In desperation, he shook him. "If you're dead, I'm gonna kill you. You'd better not be dead!"

There was a long quiet, filled with the roar of the surf as it reestablished itself. The wind gusted through Panda's sopping wet hair. Something brushed his leg. He yelped and thrashed and dropped below the surface for an instant. He came up sputtering, trying to blink the salt from his stinging eyes.

Nilesy came up with him.

He met Panda's gaze and held it. There was still a trickle of blood running down from his nose. His mouth curled into a strange, symmetrical smile. Quickly, he leaned in and kissed Panda's cheek, then dropped back below the surface and pivoted like a seal. He shot away, into the deep darkness, gone in an instant. Panda gawped after him, treading water, feeling suddenly clumsy and ungainly and very, _very_ out of his element.

All of a sudden, the something caught him like a strong arm around his waist and dragged him backwards. Panda yelped and flailed, but when it became clear that the force was not a sea monster bent on drowning him, he settled down and let it carry him. It tossed him up onto the beach like so much driftwood, and he got to his feet grumbling, brushing sand from his clothes. He looked out at the horizon, searching for any sign of Nilesy.

In the distance, a single pale hand poked up out of the water and waved to him. Cautiously, although he knew there was no way Nilesy could see it, Panda waved back.

"You fucking showboating asshole," he muttered.

He turned and started back towards the hotel, rubbing his cheek.


	51. Chapter 50

Nilesy snapped back to consciousness in the hotel room. Someone had just said his name. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and there was salt crusted in his hair. Trell was there, arms folded, one eyebrow raised. Panda's mouth was hanging open. Nano was staring in unguarded disbelief, while Lalna had their head to one side. Nilesy looked down at himself.

"What the _fuck?"_ he blurted.

His skin was gray and shiny. There were long slits on the sides of his torso, three on the left and three on the right, which fluttered open with every exhalation to reveal pinkish frills. He dashed into the bathroom and knocked his own breath out on the sink, nearly bashed his head open on the mirror.

His skin had all changed, hairline to toes. His eyes had turned a silvery gray-green with crescent-shaped pupils, as though something was eclipsing them from above. As his mouth fell open in shock, he caught sight of his teeth and immediately bared them. Four or five dozen serrated, triangular teeth crowded his mouth. There was something caught between two of them. With shaking, gray fingers, he picked it out.

It was a fish scale.

Nilesy looked back up at himself. He pulled on his hair—thankfully, all still there. He looked down at the gills again, flapping with his rapid breathing.

"I fucking _knew it,"_ he said.

Somebody knocked on the open door, and Nilesy turned to see Panda hovering in the doorway.

"Er, hi," he said. "Are you . . . okay?"

"Much as I can be," Nilesy said. "Have we got . . . coordinates? Is that still going?"

"Yeah," said Panda. "As of about three hours ago. Then we waited for you to get back, and then you came in looking like that, and then you sort of zoned out for a second, and then you . . . probably remember the rest."

Nilesy nodded slowly. He looked at himself in the mirror again.

"How long've I been gone?" he asked.

"Four days," said Panda.

Nilesy cursed loudly, whipping around. "Then what the fuck are we sitting about _here_ for? We're out of fuckin' time!"

"It's taking a while to get a boat chartered," Panda said. "If Lalna hasn't got it locked down in another hour, we've decided we're just stealing one. It's gonna be a long boat-ride, too, like . . . almost ten hours."

"And we're _waiting?_ Why hasn't the boat been taken care of already?"

"We're trusting that Lalna knows what they're about."

Nilesy shook his head. Panda fidgeted.

"Um," Panda said. "Are you, like, hungry? Or anything?"

Nilesy sighed and rubbed his head, taking an internal inventory. His skin was smooth and rubbery, like his whole body was covered in a latex glove. He ran his tongue along the points of his teeth. They were very sharp. Covertly, he flicked the fish scale under the sink.

"I think I'm all right," he said.

"Okay," said Panda. He cocked a thumb over his shoulder. "D'you want to. . . ?"

"Yeah," said Nilesy, moving away from the mirror. As he emerged back into the main room, three pairs of eyes fixed on him. He waved, sheepish.

"Sorry about that," he said.

"It's . . . fine?" Nano guessed. "Are you okay?"

Nilesy shrugged helplessly. "Apparently," he said.

"So are you like . . . some sort of secret bimorph, or. . . ?" Nano asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he said. "I've got a feeling that's not it, though. They ran enough tests on me, I'm sure they would've picked up on something like that. Besides, this's just a fucking mish-mash of . . . everything."

He gestured to his whole self, wrinkling his nose.

"What d'you mean?" Panda asked.

"Dolphin skin, stingray eyes, shark teeth, gills," said Nilesy, pointing to each trait in turn. "If it weren't for the skin, I'd think it was just some sort of elasmobranch gene-robbery, but even that's not how bimorphs work. And I'd be missing two pair of gills, too."

"Elasmo- _what?"_ said Trell.

"Elasmobranch, family of rays, sharks, and skates," said Nilesy. "Plus, if it was, you'd expect I wouldn't have real bones, and I'm _pretty_ sure I do. I had wondered about the water-breathing thing, it always seemed a bit . . . accessory."

"How d'you even know all this shit?" Trell asked.

Nilesy opened his mouth. He paused. He closed it again.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I don't actually remember learning any of it. It's the sort of thing Liam would know, I suppose."

"I thought he didn't talk to you?" Nano said, frowning.

"He doesn't," said Nilesy.

 _Didn't,_ said Liam.

"Or at least he hasn't up until recently," Nilesy allowed.

Lalna's eyes brightened suddenly, and they sat up straighter.

"I've got a boat," they said. "It belongs to a smuggler and I paid for it with Strife's money, but we've got it for the next week."

Nano jumped to her feet.

"Right, time to get moving," she said. "Nilesy, d'you need to grab anything? Spare shirt? Shoes?"

He looked down at himself. He was not, in fact, wearing any shoes.

"I haven't got spare shoes," he admitted. "But I'll take the shirt, though I don't think I'll be wearing it 'til the gills go." _If they go,_ he did not say.

Nano nodded. Trell heaved himself to his feet with a groan. Panda was already at the door.

"Everybody else got everything?" Nano asked.

"I'm good," said Lalna.

"I've been ready for _hours,"_ said Panda, jigging in place.

Trell shrugged helplessly.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he said.

"Good," said Nano. "Let's go."

* * *

 

It was dark outside, and even quieter than when Nilesy had left. It felt like it must only have been a few hours since he'd first sunk beneath the waves with Panda holding him under.

"What time is it?" Nilesy asked, as they headed towards the docks.

"Two forty-three a.m.," Lalna answered promptly. Nilesy started.

"God, tell me you haven't all been waiting up for me," he said.

"Psh, no, of course not," said Panda, wearing his lying-face.

"Of course," said Nilesy. "Still, when you said four days, I didn't think you meant _exactly_ four days."

"It was pretty fucking close to it," said Panda.

"At least the estimates were accurate," Nilesy said dryly.

 _You're welcome,_ Liam said. Nilesy wrinkled his nose.

"Honestly, though," Nilesy went on. "Why didn't we have the boat ready to go?"

"Oversight," Lalna said sheepishly, shrugging. "I might've forgotten we needed one."

"Still sorting through things?" Nilesy asked.

"Yes, actually," said Lalna, their eyes turning teal. "That's exactly why."

"It's fine, nobody else thought of it either," Panda said. "We're just lucky we were all here instead of in Honduras when Lal got the ping from your phone."

"And that's another thing," said Nilesy. "D'you think Lalnable would've picked up on that? Do they know we're inbound?"

"Oh, Jesus," Nano muttered, up at the front of the group.

"I can't imagine they wouldn't be keeping an eye on us," said Trell. "They probably would've known we were coming no matter what."

"That's true," said Panda, distasteful. "I s'pose we're best off just assuming they already know everything."

"We are," Nano confirmed. "If they know less than we think they do, it costs us nothing. If they know more than we assume, it'll get us killed."

"Optimism incarnate," Trell muttered to Panda.

"Right?" said Panda.

"I can _hear you,"_ Nano said.

"Nobody's saying you're wrong," said Panda.

"So you're just being arseholes for no reason?" Nano said, looking back over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow.

"Standard operations," said Trell.

"Unbelievable," Nano said, but she said it with affection.

The boat, when they got to it, was moored down at the far end of a seedy little wharf. It was moderately sized, well-kept but clearly aging. Lalna and Nano spoke briefly with a tall woman, after which the whole crew was waved aboard.

"So who knows how to drive a boat?" Trell asked, looking up the stairs towards the wheelhouse.

"I worked it out on the way over," Lalna said. They started up the stairs. "But I can teach people, if they want."

"I wanna drive the boat!" Panda said immediately, darting up the stairs after them.

"I'm finding food," said Trell. "Best of luck."

He meandered off, leaving Nano and Nilesy standing together on the deck.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Nilesy shrugged. "They're my friends, too, Nano."

She looked over at him, pained.

"Nilesy," she said.

"I know," he said. "But we'll deal with that when everyone else is safe."

Nano sighed, then turned her eyes up towards the wheelhouse.

"I think I'd better go learn how to drive," she said. "I'm not going to be able to sleep, I might as well be useful."

"Good plan," he said. "I'm going to at least _try_ to sleep. I'm not sure I have in the last four days."

Nano winced. "Yeah, probably wise, then. I'll wake you if anything happens."

"Thanks," he said.

She set off up the stairs. After a moment, Nilesy went in search of somewhere to sleep. He found a small, two-bed cabin belowdecks. The boat started off about the time he got there, and was out into the open ocean within a couple of minutes. Lalna seemed to be doing an admirable job of driving, considering that they hadn't hit anything on the way out.

Nilesy lay down on one of the two cots and shut his eyes. He was struck with the singular sensation of being underneath the water without actually being _underwater._ It was so disorienting that he had to open his eyes again. His gills were fluttering, sharing his distress.

 _His gills._ It was still a remarkably strange thought.

For the next few hours, he drifted in and out of consciousness, half asleep. His dreams were all blue-green, filled with motes of light and vast darknesses. When he woke fully, it was to see Lalna settling into a folding chair near his cot.

"Are we there?" Nilesy asked, starting to sit up. He was groggy, and his voice was hoarse. His skin was no longer gray, which was something of a relief. His teeth were still sharp in his mouth, though, and the gills were still very much present.

"No, not yet," said Lalna. "Panda wanted a turn driving. We're still about six hours out."

"Ah," said Nilesy. "D'you need something, then?"

Lalna was quiet. Their eyes were just on the purple side of blue. They laced their fingers and started tapping their thumbs together.

"Can I touch your gills?" they asked. "It looks like you're reverting to your previous state and I think they're probably going to be gone by the time we get there. So can I touch them?"

Nilesy made a face. "Can you _touch_ my _external lungs,"_ he said.

"Would it hurt?" Lalna said, their eyes instantly turning white. "I won't do it if it'd hurt."

"I . . . don't actually know," Nilesy said. He looked down at his gills, still fluttering with his breath. "D'you know what, go for it. Just—very gently. And not the pink bits."

Lalna reached out a hand, then paused and drew it back. Instead, they leaned in close, observing as Nilesy breathed.

"It seems like your false ribs have been converted into gill arches," they said, pointing. "Which is pairs eight through ten, the term _false ribs_ is technical, it's not that your ribs are fake. I guess the floating ribs didn't get used because the musculature is too difficult. I think the gills are probably just extensions of your lungs, which is why you've got to fill your lungs up with water before the gills come in."

"Seems reasonable?" Nilesy guessed.

"I'm going to touch them now," said Lalna. "If that's still all right."

"Still fine, sib."

Feather-light, their hand came to rest atop the gills on Nilesy's right side. The gills twitched at the touch, hyper-sensitive, and it was all Nilesy could do to not wriggle out of the cot.

"Ah, not that light," he said. "If—if you're going to—just press a bit harder—"

"Oh," said Lalna, "sure."

Their hand pressed down firmly. The twitching discomfort settled out, but another discomfort soon replaced it. The air had gone thin, and Nilesy soon found himself struggling to breathe. The other set of gills were flapping harder, a landed-fish gasping that made his whole chest ache.

"Well," he said, strangled. "Well that's odd. Sort of—feels like I can't breathe. Which you wouldn't expect."

"Should I—"

"Please."

They took their hand off his side. He sucked down a couple of deep breaths and coughed, and the feeling of suffocation faded. He gave Lalna a sheepish smile.

"So that's interesting," he said.

"It is," said Lalna. Their eyes were orange, their head to one side. "I'm guessing it's probably psychosomatic, since I doubt you're actually using them to breathe now."

"Seems plausible?" Nilesy guessed.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Lalna's eyes faded to blue, and then to purple. They glanced at the door. They folded their hands. They sighed.

"Nilesy?" they said at last.

"Yes?" he said.

They ticked their thumbs together. Their eyes were dim.

"Do you think Rythian's still alive?"

Nilesy took a slow breath. He sat up and put his back to the wall.

"Are you asking because you're collecting data, or because you're checking your answers?" he asked.

"Bit of both?" said Lalna, shrugging. "I'd appreciate it if you were honest, though."

Nilesy nodded. He looked out the tiny porthole window at the sea rushing by, lacing his fingers over his shins.

"No," he said. "I don't think he is. I think Lalnable was telling the truth when he said he'd outlived his usefulness."

Lalna nodded. "That's what I thought," they said. "The reason I'm asking is because . . . the others have been asking me for odds."

"And what're the odds?" said Nilesy.

"Less than five percent," Lalna said quietly.

"What've you been telling them?"

They hesitated.

"Seventy-five percent," they admitted.

"I think that's reasonable," said Nilesy. "If you weren't here to ask, they'd make up their own odds. You haven't made any promises you can't keep, anyway."

"Sure," said Lalna, still miserable. "But I know I shouldn't be doing it. Not because it's . . . y'know, _wrong,_ because I don't know if I've got a good idea of what that means anymore, but because I remember Nano telling me that lying's only bad if people get hurt. And they probably _will_ get hurt, when we get there and Rythian's . . . not."

"That'd hurt them anyway, Lal," Nilesy said. "And in all honesty, I think they probably _want_ to be lied to. Whenever I'm around them, I—honestly, _I_ pretend like the odds are higher, too. I pretend I believe we're going to find him, because right now, hope's all they've got. I'm not going to take that from them, even if . . . it's not something I can have myself. I know I can keep fighting without it. I don't know if they can."

"You don't know if Panda can," Lalna said.

Nilesy made a face. "So you _have_ been paying attention," he said.

"Panda's the only one it'd really matter to," said Lalna. "Enough to make him give up, anyway. Nano's still got Lomadia to rescue, and Trell doesn't have any particular investment in Rythian's well-being. I talked to him, too, and he doesn't think Rythian made it, either."

Nilesy chewed his lip—gently, because his teeth were still very sharp.

"Sib," he said. "Can I ask _you_ something?"

"Sure," said Lalna.

"Why're _you_ still fighting?"

They were quiet for a moment. Their eyes had turned pale purple, their thumbs tapping together rapidly.

"It can stay between you and me," he assured them.

"I think I can save Lalnable," they said.

Of all the answers Nilesy had expected, that was not one of them. He blinked, struggling for words, for any kind of reaction at all. He was so blindsided that he couldn't even figure out what he ought to be feeling.

"From . . . what?" he managed.

"No, not that sort of save," Lalna said, shaking their head. "To a disk, I mean. I guess I could probably make it so that he's not evil anymore, but I don't think I would. I wouldn't want to change him without his consent. But I think I can save him."

"And why would you be doing this?" Nilesy asked.

Lalna shrugged.

"Because he's my brother," they said.

"Because he's the only other person in the world like you," Nilesy said slowly, realization creeping over him. Lalna glanced at him and flashed a fake smile.

"Yes," they said. "I don't think I'll do it if Rythian's alive. I know Rythian would probably want Lalnable dead, at this point. But Rythian probably isn't alive to want things anymore, so it probably won't matter."

Nilesy had just taken a breath to reply when the door opened and Trell shuffled in. He got all the way to the other cot before he stopped. He turned slowly, blinking.

"Sorry," he said. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not really," said Nilesy.

"Good, because I'm fucking exhausted," said Trell, dropping himself onto the cot with reckless abandon.

"You should probably sleep, too," Lalna said to Nilesy. "Or at least attempt to. It'll help."

"Yeah," said Nilesy. "I don't s'pose you really need sleep, but . . . I dunno, take care of yourself, yeah?"

"I will," said Lalna, their eyes going green. "I mostly just need to keep the boat on course."

"I thought Panda was driving?"

"Panda thinks he's driving," Lalna confided.

 _"Ah,"_ said Nilesy. "You'd better tell him to sleep, too." He winked at them. "He won't do it, but just for the look of the thing."

Lalna winked back. "I'll tell him to stay up," they said. "That's much more likely to get him to actually sleep."

"That's accurate," Nilesy said.

Lalna got to their feet. They moved to the door, put their hand on the knob, and turned back.

"G'night, Nilesy," they said. "I love you."

"Good night, Lalna," Nilesy said. "I love you, too."

Lalna glanced at Trell. Nilesy wrinkled his nose and nodded.

"Good night, Trell," said Lalna. "I love you."

Trell went very still. Slowly, he lifted his head.

"Sorry?" he said.

"I'll let you both know when we're getting close," said Lalna, their eyes a rosy pink. They left the cabin, shutting the door softly behind them. Nilesy fought down a smile.

"Do they—just do that to everybody?" Trell asked faintly.

"No," said Nilesy. "Seems like you've made a friend, though."

"Oh," said Trell.

"Sleep tight," said Nilesy. He lay down and shut his eyes, nestling in. After a moment, he heard Trell do the same.

"We're all going to die," Trell said.

"Sweet fucking dreams to you too," said Nilesy.


	52. Chapter 51

"Oy, Trell."

Trell woke up, blinking and groggy. The whole world was pitching and swaying, just enough to remind him that he was at sea. Bright light was pouring in through the tiny porthole, suspending motes of dust in the air. Panda was leaning into the doorway. His face was hard.

"Are we there?" Trell asked, struggling to get upright. He'd slept less than eight hours over the last four days combined, and it was catching up with him.

"Nearly," said Panda. "Nano wants to run through things with everybody once before we get too close."

"Oh, so it's like a proper. . . ." Trell said. The word eluded him, so he gestured vaguely.

"What, you expected us to go in with no plan and no prep?"

"Yes," said Trell.

Panda made a face, then acceded.

"That's fair," he said. "C'mon, everybody's up on the bridge."

"You mean the wheelhouse?" said Trell, heaving himself up out of bed.

"I don't fucking know, what am I, a boatologist?" said Panda. "The bit where you steer."

"The wheelhouse," said Trell.

"Whatever."

Up in said wheelhouse, the mood was grim. Nano was sitting in the captain's chair, elbows resting on her knees and fingers laced together. Lalna was at the helm, gently guiding the wheel while all the buttons and levers tended to themselves. Nilesy was leaned up against the back wall. He was the only one who acknowledged Trell and Panda as they entered. He looked to be back to normal—at the very least, he was wearing a shirt again.

"So you've got no idea what sort of entrance there might be?" Nano said to Nilesy, as Trell settled onto the other chair.

"None whatsoever," said Nilesy. Trell caught a glimpse of the pointed tips of his teeth. Not _quite_ back to normal, then.

"And you can't just . . . _ask?"_

"I don't know if he even knows," said Nilesy, shrugging helplessly. "He might not have got that close."

"You could find out," Nano said, "by _asking."_

"He won't talk to me," Nilesy said.

"If all else fails, Niles could probably get us down there, right?" said Panda, perching on the console.

"I don't know that, either," said Nilesy. "Depends on how deep it is. Water's fucking _heavy,_ and it's not as though the ocean's perfectly still and compliant. It's not a simple task."

"You've managed it before," Lalna said. "Back when we were rescuing Nano from Strife?"

"Like I said: depends on how deep it is," said Nilesy. "Five meters I could do. Ten's pushing it. Anything deeper than fifteen and there's no way. I'd kill myself trying."

Trell leaned his head back against the wall. His eyes were gritty, stinging. He rubbed them for a while, watching the dim fireworks behind his eyelids. He wondered if there was coffee. It would certainly help with waking up. In the mean time, maybe he could just listen with his eyes closed, just to spare himself a little bit of discomfort. . . .

"Trell?"

"Huh?" He sat up straighter, surreptitiously wiping the drool off his chin. There was no telling how long he'd been asleep. "Yes, sorry, I was paying attention. What was the question?"

"D'you want to come in with us, or stay on the boat?" Nilesy asked.

"Ah, boat," said Trell. "Definitely boat, and . . . if I don't hear from you in an hour, I'll just _assume_ everything went to hell and skip back and we'll figure out something else from there."

"Sensible," Nano said.

"It's probably easiest for me to do the communicating," said Lalna. "Although you will have to turn your phone on for it to work. Do we think that's an acceptable risk?"

"I do," said Nano. "I assume they're already keeping tabs on us. But we could minimize the risk by having him only turn on his phone when we're right on top of them already."

"Good, sounds good," said Trell. "How long until we're there? Just . . . out of curiosity."

"Ten minutes or so," said Lalna.

"Fucking Christ! How close were we cutting it?"

"Not that close," Nilesy said. "You've been asleep for the last, oh, half hour or so?"

"Thirty-five minutes," said Lalna.

"I—well," said Trell, heat rising to his cheeks. "That's good. Isn't it. Means I'll be—more awake. From here on out."

"D'you want me to explain what plan we've got?" Panda offered.

"Can't hurt."

The so-called _plan_ was frankly embarrassing. It boiled down to: go in the front door, break or kill any obstructions, get Lomadia, disable the missiles. Trell stared at Panda all through the explanation.

 _"That's_ your plan," he said.

"It's not horrible," said Panda.

"It took you _half an hour_ to come up with _that?"_

"I don't see you having any better ideas," Nano snapped.

"That wasn't my job!" Trell retorted. "My job is—is—is being your bloody quicksave feature! You've honestly not come up with _anything_ better?"

"We don't know what's in there," Nilesy said. "Hard to prepare for the unknown."

"You know Lalnable and Five are in there," Trell said. "Why didn't you start with that?"

"Five minutes," Lalna interjected.

"Unless you want to pop back _now_ and give us an extra hour of planning time, you can stop with the disparaging comments," Nano said. "This is what we've got and we'll do our best with it."

 _"Definitely_ staying on the boat," Trell muttered.

Although he kept an eye out through the windows of the wheelhouse, he still didn't see the base until they were literally on top of it. The water was deep, but clear, pierced by shoals and reefs. What at first appeared to be a wide swath of unremarkable gray seafloor suddenly resolved into a sprawling complex of domes and tunnels. Its camouflage was such that it was impossible to tell how large it was, how far down and out it spread. Lalna stopped the boat and dropped anchor. Trell turned on his phone.

"I s'pose this is it, then," he said.

"Yeah," said Nano, looking out at the undersea base. "Nilesy, can you get us down there?"

"Definitely," said Nilesy. "If we go down on the deck, I can probably find an exterior door to use."

"Okay, so let's go," said Panda, already outside.

"Let's go," said Nano, although she didn't sound as enthusiastic. She offered Trell a fake smile. "Thanks. And good luck."

"Same to you," said Trell.

"I'll try to keep in contact," said Lalna. "If I lose it, though, don't worry. It doesn't necessarily mean anything's gone wrong."

"Right."

The four of them started down to the deck. Nilesy hung back in the doorway.

"Don't die," he said.

"It's pretty hard for me to."

"Good," said Nilesy. "So I s'pose I'll see you in an hour, one way or another."

Trell sighed. "One way or another," he said.

Nilesy hesitated a moment more, then followed the others out. Trell watched them through the windows. His phone was still in his hand, the plastic gone greasy with sweat. He half expected it to start ringing, to buzz with another dire message from Lalnable. He licked his lips and swallowed. The others were having a brief conversation down on the deck, Lalna towering above the others. Trell turned his phone in his hand.

"For God's sake," he said.

Nilesy had just stepped up to the railing when Trell got there, slightly out of breath.

"I've changed my mind," Trell said. "I'm coming with you."

"Are you sure?" said Panda. Nilesy looked back over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

"No, but fuck it," said Trell.

"Well," Nano said, looking sideways at Trell. "At least we know it's not going to go wrong in the next hour."

 _Holy shit, no you don't,_ he managed not to say. There was no harm in letting them all believe. He wished he could.

Even as that thought crossed his mind, there was a great sloshing and gurgling, and something massive emerged from the sea. Panda leapt back, whipping a knife out of his belt. Nilesy flung up both hands and twin columns of water leapt from the sea. A piercing whine came from Lalna. Nano lifted off the deck, hovering in the air with her fists raised.

Rather than attacking, the thing settled with a loud _clunk._ It was about ten feet across, a column of rusting gray metal. Water sheeted off of it, spilling around barnacles and trapped seaweed. There was an airlock-type door in the side. Even as Trell watched, the central wheel spun, and the door swung open. There was no one inside, just bright lights and a ladder leading downward.

"D'you think they might know we're here?" Trell said.

"What the fuck kind of—never mind, it's YogLabs-built," Nano said. "Engineering stupidity is par for the course. I assume we're _not_ going in that way?"

"Why not?" said Nilesy. "We've got no idea if there even _are_ any other ways in."

"It's obviously a trap!"

"This whole thing is a trap, Nano," said Panda. "We're wasting time like this. Let's just go, and if they try and kill us, Trell can pop back and tell us _hey don't go in the fucking trap-tube."_

Nano gave Trell a dubious look. He shrugged.

"It's to their advantage to pick a ingress point for us," said Lalna. "It's more likely that they've set up traps past this than in it. Besides, we're close enough to the surface that Nilesy should be able to get us back out if anything goes wrong. Right?"

"Right," said Nilesy.

"Fine, fuck it, whatever," said Nano. "Let's go."

Nilesy raised a hand, and a swath of seawater lifted up between the boat and the entrance, forming a glassy blue walkway. Nano neglected to actually use it, instead floating across through the air.

"Has she always been able to fly?" Trell asked Panda, as the two of them clambered over the boat's railing.

"Yeah," said Panda. "I think she forgets about it, to be honest."

"I do _not!"_ Nano called back.

The six of them crossed over, Lalna coming last. Their weight distorted the watery path Nilesy had called up, although it had been comfortably solid while Trell walked across it. The moment they were inside, Nilesy dropped the water.

The room was tiny, containing only a ladder down. It was like being inside a soda can, and Trell couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to be crushed.

"Who wants to go first?" Nano asked.

"I will," Panda volunteered.

"I'll go last," said Lalna. "In case something drops on us."

"Good plan," said Nano. "Trell, stick close to Nilesy."

Trell, without thinking, hooked his arm through Nilesy's and pulled himself in.

"All right, that'll make the ladder difficult," Nilesy said, amused.

Trell took his arm back and dusted it off.

"Shut up," he said. "I was joking. That was a joke."

"Anybody might think you were scared."

"Me? Scared? Never once in my life."

Panda started down the ladder, and Nano went after him. Nilesy ushered Trell onward, and Lalna brought up the rear. The ladder was long, two or three stories, and with every passing meter, Trell could feel the ocean crushing in tighter and tighter. His hands sweated on the rough, rusty rungs. His knees shook. It would be a terrifically stupid irony if he fell down and cracked his head open.

Contrary to expectations, they reached the bottom of the ladder without event. Looking up the shaft, Trell could see sunlight still spilling in through the open door. He tried not to think about how much water was above them and failed miserably.

The room at the bottom of the ladder was tiny, too, some sort of airlock or antechamber. There were two doors, both closed. One had a small porthole, showing the sea outside. Panda was already hauling on the other one. Lalna came over to help, and in short order, they were out into the base proper. There was a narrow corridor, the ceiling so low that Lalna had to bend their head. Pipes ran along the walls and ceiling. It was brightly lit, although there were no windows. The floors were all grates, below which there were more pipes and wires. The whole place was humming, full of clanks and clangs and hisses and pops.

"Okay, so first we find Lalnable and Five," Nano said. "If we've got them, everything else gets less urgent. Keep your eyes open, and don't go _anywhere_ alone. Got it?"

"Got it," said Panda. Nilesy and Lalna both gave thumbs-up. Trell nodded.

"Good," said Nano. She took a deep breath. "All right. This is going to go to hell very soon and very fast."

She started down the corridor. Panda went behind her, Nilesy after him. Lalna brought up the rear again, leaving Trell shuffling along in the middle. His abdomen was already aching. He wished he'd stayed on the boat. The longer nothing happened, the more nervous he got—first was the windowless corridor, and then a set of switchbacked stairs that went down at least another two stories, then a short corridor that was nothing but windows, a big glass tube that made Trell want to hold his breath. The crack in the lefthand wall didn't help matters.

After that was a small connecting chamber with four doors, one of which was closed. Nano held up a hand as she entered it, and the others stopped inside.

"Okay," she said. "Who's got a preference on which way we go? Ideas?"

There was a tremendous clanging. All three open doors slammed shut. The lights went out, plunging them into darkness. Only Lalna's face could be seen, illuminated by the fuchsia glow of their eyes.

"And there it is," Nano muttered.

Static cracked out from everywhere, earsplitting. Lalnable's voice filled the room.

 _"I bet you think you're very clever, don't you,"_ he said.

"No, we're fucking idiots!" Panda yelled.

There was a chuckle, and then a grinding noise. Something went _clunk._

 _"Well,"_ said Lalnable. _"Good luck, idiots."_

Water and light gushed into the room. The righthand door slammed back on its hinges. Trell yelped and leapt into the air, as though it would do any good. Panda was already on Lalna's shoulders. Nano plastered herself to the ceiling. Trell sputtered, his eyes and mouth and nose full of seawater. The doorway had become a horizontal waterfall.

Nilesy dug in his heels and bent his knees and pushed both hands forward. The gushing stopped abruptly. A shivering wall of water hung in the doorway like a curtain. The whole ocean was beyond it, twenty meters deep and stretching off forever.

"Get the fucking door," Nilesy gasped. He was trembling already. He dropped to one knee as Lalna sloshed to the other side of the room. Water sheeted in, like waves lapping over the edge of a pool.

Lalna slammed the door shut and spun the wheel and Nilesy collapsed almost instantly. Panda waded to his side, fussing over him as he got to his feet. Lalna stepped back and raised one arm. There was a piercing, escalating whine, and then a loud _pop_ and a flash of light. The base of the wheel glowed cherry red, making little _clink-ping_ sounds as it cooled.

"Laser-locked," they said, eyes yellow.

Nano was at the third door, the one that led straight ahead. She hauled on the wheel a couple of times, then called back over her shoulder.

"Nilesy, can you clear the floor?"

"Will do," said Nilesy, although he sounded exhausted. With a flick of his hand, the calf-deep water on the floor retreated, climbing up the walls instead.

"Thanks," said Nano, pressing both hands to the top hinge of the door. "Diffusion and all."

There was a sizzle, then a string of white smoke from under her hands. Fizzing sludge dripped onto the floor. It took about thirty seconds to get through the top hinge, and then another thirty for the bottom. The door shifted, but didn't fall into the room like Trell had expected it to.

"Er," he said.

"I've got it," Lalna said, coming over. "Stand back, everybody."

Everybody stood back, and Lalna considered the door. They grabbed it by the wheel and then, with an effortful grunt, ripped it clean off. The _clang_ it made when they dropped it was deafening.

"Good job, keep moving," Nano said, already through the door.

There was another _crack_ of static. The others all flinched as they edged through the door after Lalna.

 _"So as you might have noticed,"_ Lalnable said casually, _"the vast majority of this base is remotely accessible. I'd offer you a guided tour but, ahah, I_ _am_ _somewhat busy at the moment."_

"Busy with what, going and fucking yourself?" Panda shouted to the room at large.

 _"You really don't have to yell,"_ said Lalnable. _"I can hear_ ~~ _zzzshht_~~ _—"_

The speakers cut out with a burst of static and a pop.

"So it turns out the speakers are some of the remotely accessible things," Lalna said. "I locked him out."

"How long until he's back in?" Trell asked.

"That depends," said Lalna. "The password _was_ our birthday, but I changed it to eight random numbers. It could take anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes for him to crack, depending on how lucky he gets and how busy he is. So I'm also changing it every four seconds."

"Nice," said Panda. "Can he still hear us?"

"Probably," said Lalna, shrugging. "It won't help him much."

"Hey Lalnable!" Panda yelled. "I've been more threatened by graphing calculators!"

"That's not helping us, either," Nano said, poking her head around the next corner.

"Helping _me,"_ Panda mumbled.

"This place is a fucking maze," Nano said. "Lalna, can you get hold of any schematics or anything?"

"Mm, not really," said Lalna. "There's databases, but I dunno if that's a can of worms I want to open. If Lalnable and me start really going after each other, I'm going to be useless for a while. If Five gets in my head, it's all over."

"All right, so maybe no maps then," said Nilesy.

"Nilesy," Nano said. "Could you get, like . . . I dunno, a feel for the shape of the place?"

Nilesy shook his head.

"Why not?" said Nano. "It's _surrounded_ by water!"

"That's Liam's party trick, not mine," said Nilesy. "It's like trying to pick out the shape of a pea under twenty mattresses. There's a fucking _lot_ of ocean out there, Nano."

"Okay, all right," said Nano. "We'll just—find our own way. Stay alert for traps. We've got some time."

"I can scout ahead," said Panda.

 _"No,"_ Nano and Nilesy and Lalna all said at once. Panda raised his hands in surrender.

"Yeah, fine, that's fair," he said.

"It might be the most helpful if Trell remembers which way we go," said Lalna. "If he winds up having to skip back, we'll have a set of directions for next time."

"I'll try," said Trell. "I really don't like standing about here, though."

"Good point," Nano said. She took a left at the doorway, drifting along with both feet off the ground. "We'll stick to the left whenever possible. Should keep us from getting lost, even if it's time-consuming."

"When you said _storming an evil undersea lab,_ I was picturing a lot more action," Trell said to Panda, as they crept down the twisting corridor.

"The _action_ bit is when it all goes to hell," said Panda. "If we're lucky—and I can't believe I'm saying this—but if we're lucky, there won't _be_ any action. The less the better."

"I can't believe you said that, either," said Nilesy. "Who are you, and what've you done with Panda?"

"Last time there was _action,_ I got _shot,"_ Panda said. "And this time we haven't got any of the serum with us, either."

"Lalna, how much time have we got before Eurovision starts?" Nano asked.

"About forty-five minutes," they answered promptly.

"So we will _not_ be searching this base for spare serum," said Nano. "There's not—"

The door right in front of her slammed closed. She was knocked back like a baseball and landed heavily on the floor. Trell pressed his back to the wall, expecting another flood. Nilesy helped Nano back to her feet.

"Anything broken?" he asked.

"I don't—think so?" she said, sounding rather stunned. "But _ow."_

"He's still got control of the doors, doesn't he," Panda said to Lalna. "No speakers, but yes doors."

"Yeah," Lalna admitted, rubbing the back of their head.

"Can you lock him out?" Nano asked. "If he shuts all the doors in this place, we could run out of time just trying to get them open."

"Hang on," said Lalna. Their eyes flickered, and then there was a _pop_ of static from overhead.

 _"That's very rude, you know,"_ Lalnable said. He wasn't so nonchalant anymore. _"I was trying to have a conversation with you."_

Lalna pointed at Panda and winked. Panda's face pulled into what Trell could only describe as a _shit-eating grin._

"I've had better conversations with my toaster," Panda said to the room at large.

 _"You're a singularly_ _tiresome_ _person, Dmitri, did you know that?"_ Lalnable sighed.

"Yeah? Why don't you come up here and say that to my face, Siri?"

_"We both know how that would end. On the bright side, you'd get to see Rythian sooner."_

"You lying fuck!" Panda snarled. A knife appeared in his hand as though by magic.

 _"Hit a nerve, did I?"_ Lalnable said, with a distinctly Vee-ish cadence. _"He was immensely accommodating, towards the end._ _Begging_ _was a very good look on Rythian. I have tapes. Would you like to see?"_

"Whatever you're doing, _hurry up,"_ Nano growled at Lalna.

They didn't respond. Their eyes were dark, their body statue-still. Trell got an idea.

"Yeah, show us," he said to the ceiling. "I don't believe you that he's dead. I think you're all talk. Pull me up a video."

"What the _fuck?"_ Panda said, rounding on him. There were tears in his eyes.

 _"Oh, all right, if you insist,"_ Lalnable said. Trell's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, looked at it, then dropped it onto the floor and stomped on it.

"Whoops," he said.

 _"Now you're just wasting my time,"_ Lalnable snapped.

"Careful, or you'll overheat," Trell said dryly. "Go on, let's have a soundbite then."

_"What could you_ _ possibly _ _be getting from—"_

"Got it!" Lalna crowed. The door clanged and swung open. There was a screech of feedback from the speakers, deafening.

"I think you might've ticked him off, Lal!" Nano said, shoving them through the doorway.

"We should probably move faster," Lalna agreed.

On cue, there was a roar of water from behind them. Nano zoomed through the air, and Panda grabbed Nilesy by the wrist, dragging him forward. Trell scrambled after them as water came crashing down the corridors. Nilesy turned and dug in his heels again, but the door slammed the moment Trell was through it. The sea impacted against it with buckling force. Trell tripped over himself as he staggered away, but Lalna caught him by the arm and set him upright again.

"Jesus Christ," said Panda.

"How did he manage that?" Nano demanded of Lalna. "I thought you had the doors!"

"I do," said Lalna. "That was something else. I'm trying to work out what."

"Think and walk," Nano said. "We're obviously not that safe."

There was a chorus of agreement, and the five of them started off again, much more quickly. When the announcing _pop_ came from the ubiquitous speakers, Trell nearly bit his tongue off.

 _"All right,"_ Lalnable said. _"So I lied about Rythian being dead."_

Trell clenched his jaw and his fists. He continued on down the corridor, as did the others. Nobody said anything. There was a vicious camaraderie in their silence.

 _"_ _No_ _?_ _"_ said Lalnable. _"_ _Here, I'll_ _prove it_ _. Say hello, Rythian."_

There was a breathless and dreadful moment. The speakers crackled.

_"Go to hell."_

Panda locked up, freezing on the instant. Nilesy went taut as a bowstring. Nano's fists clenched and Lalna's eyes went dark.

The voice had been hoarse, and weak, and unmistakably Rythian's. He sounded exhausted. He sounded like he was in pain.

He sounded alive.

"You son of a bitch," Panda said. His voice was thick with tears. He was literally vibrating with rage. "That's not going to fucking work twice, you piece of _shit!"_

 _"My, my,"_ said Lalnable. _"This isn't nearly the happy reunion I was expecting. Aren't you glad to know your friends are here, Rythian? It seems like they're not particularly glad to see you."_

_"Fuck you."_

There was a scream. Trell flinched. It didn't matter if it was happening now or if it was just a recording, echoes of a dead man's pain. There was enough agony in it that death might have been a mercy.

"Shut him up," Nano said to Lalna. Her voice shook.

"I can't keep him out of the doors _and—"_

Another scream, this one cut off in wet choking and coughing.

 _"Now say hello, Rythian,"_ Lalnable said. _"And do it properly this time, hahah,_ _or I'm going to start taking fingers again_ _."_

_"No—please, no, no—!"_

The third scream was silenced in half a second with a pop of static. The doors all slammed shut.

"Jesus _Christ,"_ Panda hissed. He kicked the wall and put a hand over his eyes. Nilesy reached out to touch him, then seemed to think better of it.

"What now?" Trell said. There was a taste of bile on the back of his tongue. His abdomen was aching like a sore muscle.

Nano didn't answer. Instead, she stormed over to the nearest door and started burning through the hinges again. The smell of acid filled the small room, sharp and rusty.

"He's dead," Panda said. "Isn't he. He's . . . he's been dead."

"Not necessarily," Nilesy said. "He could be—"

"Don't," Panda said quietly. "Niles, don't. Please."

For a moment, the only sound was the fizzing of dissolving metal.

"It was a recording," Lalna said. Their eyes were blue, their voice devoid of feeling. "Rythian's bits, anyway."

Panda rested his forehead against the wall. Trell's heart sank. He looked away.

"Lalna," Nano said, stepping back from the door. Lalna tore the door out of its frame again. Beyond were more corridors, twisting and cluttered. "We're running out of time. We've got to keep going."

"Why?" said Panda.

"Because Lomadia's still down here!" Nano snarled. "Get your head out of your arse and _pull yourself together,_ for fuck's sake!"

She didn't wait for him to react. She was moving before she'd even finished speaking.

"Could've been done with more tact, but she's right," Nilesy said, touching Panda's shoulder with two knuckles. "Besides, there's still Lalnable to murder, isn't there?"

"How are you so _okay?"_ Panda demanded.

"Dissociation," Nilesy said, and laughed hollowly. "I'm barely even here right now. Short term solutions, darling."

"Don't—all right, don't get any _less_ here," Trell said. That _darling_ hadn't been Nilesy's voice.

Nilesy shut his eyes and nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Trying," he said. "I'm trying."

Nano was already at the next door, which she seemed to have chosen at random. The corridors were still all empty, but Trell kept his eyes peeled and his ears pricked for any sign of movement. So it was that when a door squeaked open as he passed it, he slammed his head into the low-hanging pipes.

 _"Um!"_ he called, and pointed at it.

"That's a trap," Panda said, darting over and pulling Trell away from the door.

Trell caught only a glimpse of what was inside—some kind of screen, flickering white light and a hiss of static, a single high-backed chair in the center of the room with black straps dangling off it. Meanwhile, Nano and Lalna had already gotten the next door open and were through it. Panda dragged Trell off before he could fully process what he'd seen.

Through the next three corridors, several other doors opened of their own accord, inviting. They were all ignored, the group opting instead to push through the path of most resistance. Trell was just about to remark upon the dangerous predictability of this strategy when it led them to a dead end.

There was only one door in the room, directly in front of the one they had come through. As Nano stepped over the threshold, the door drifted open, silent and welcoming. The room beyond was tiny and dark. There were no other doors inside. Trell whipped around, ready for whatever was behind them, whatever charging bull had driven them to this sea—but the corridor was empty and still.

"Oh my God," Nilesy whispered.

Trell turned back around to see Lalna creeping into the barren room. He noticed the crumpled shape on the floor. He noticed Panda's hands clapped over his mouth, Nano's wide and staring eyes, Nilesy's waxen pallor. Lalna's eyes were dim and white. The shape on the floor was human. A thin silver ring encircled its neck. Its back was a mess of mottled skin. Lalna knelt down next to it in slow-motion.

"Rythian," Lalna said, touching him gently.

Rythian stirred, his shoulders tensing, his head lifting. He turned his eyes to Lalna. His face twisted with despair.

 _"No,"_ he gasped. "No, no, no, no. . . ."

He clawed feebly at the floor, trying to drag himself away, repeating _no, no, no_ over and over again, begging, pleading. Lalna pulled their hand back, their eyes going dark. Panda pushed past Trell, past Lalna, knelt at Rythian's side and put a hand on his shoulder. Rythian cried out, thrashing and weeping.

"Rythian!" Panda insisted, holding onto him. "Rythian, it's okay! It's me. It's Panda."

Rythian stilled. His breath came short. His eyes were enormous, unfocused, the pupils so wide his eyes looked black. He reached up one trembling hand, touched Panda's face with one grimy fingertip.

"Hey," Panda said softly, smiling at him.

Rythian took three sharp, gasping breaths, then flung his arms around Panda and clutched him like a drowning man. Panda was yanked down on top of him, squeaking with surprise.

"O—okay, okay, Rythian, it's okay," Panda said, pushing himself up to a sitting position and bringing Rythian up with him. "We're—let's get you out of this room, okay?"

When the only response was a sniffle, Panda tried to extract himself from Rythian's clinging arms. Rythian fought to keep hold of him, disjointed pleas spilling through his lips, his hands grasping.

"No—c'mon, Rythian, I can't—just for a second, okay, it's just for a second, I'm not leaving you—"

"Jesus Christ," Nano said under her breath. Trell looked over to see her with a hand over her mouth, waxen and grim.

"He appears to be drugged," Lalna mentioned. Rythian flinched, burying his face in Panda's shoulder. Lalna's eyes went completely dark. Head hanging, they crept out of the room. Nilesy touched their arm as they passed by him.

"It's not your fault," he said.

Rythian's head snapped up. His eyes fixed on Nilesy, just for a moment, before coming unfocused again. He kept one hand fisted in Panda's shirt, but the other reached out for Nilesy, grasping at him desperately.

Nilesy took a deep breath, then went into the cell and knelt near Rythian. Rythian launched himself onto Nilesy before he was all the way down, nearly knocking him to the floor. He was shaking like mad, weeping, his breath coming short and ragged.

"I've got him," Nilesy said to Panda, who nodded and carefully let go of Rythian before getting to his feet. Nilesy rubbed Rythian's arm, speaking softly to him. His other hand came up to touch the silver ring around Rythian's neck.

Rythian went rigid. He stopped breathing. Nilesy leaned his head against Rythian's and let go of the ring.

"It's all right," he said. He glanced at Nano over Rythian's shoulder, pointing to the ring. "Shh, shh, it's all right, Rythian. You're safe. We're going to take you home. It's over. It's over."

Nano entered the cell as well, approaching on careful and quiet feet. Panda moved away, coming out to stand in the doorway.

"Just take it easy," Nilesy murmured, as Nano stretched out a hand towards the back of Rythian's neck. "Nano's going to get that collar off of you, all right?"

Rythian tried to turn, and Nilesy caught his head before he could. Rythian struggled only for an instant before going still, his chest heaving.

"It's all right," Nilesy said. "She's not going to hurt you."

Nano winced, and Nilesy mouthed to her, _I know._ Face scrunched up with contrition, Nano reached out and pinched the collar between both thumbs and forefingers, then pulled it up to wrap a few more fingers around it. Rythian whimpered, but didn't try to get away.

"That's all right, Rythian," Nilesy said. "It'll be over in a moment. You're all right."

There was a fizzing sound, and smoke curled up out of Nano's hands. Drips of acid slime fell from her knuckles onto Rythian's back and she flinched.

Rythian didn't.

In a moment, the ring burned through, and Nilesy tugged it off of Rythian, throwing it away clinging into the back of the cell.

"It's done, it's done," he said quickly. "It's over. You're okay."

Rythian sat there trembling. Both of his hands reached up and touched his neck, haltingly at first, and then stroking every inch of skin they could find. Nilesy moved back, close enough to touch but not touching. Rythian's hands stopped their petting abruptly, and for a moment he held still again—but this time with his eyes squeezed shut, his breathing slow and deliberate.

There was an earsplitting _bang_ and he vanished. Instantaneously, he reappeared in the antechamber with the rest of them, dropping to his hands and knees. Trell nearly jumped out of his skin.

Rythian coughed out one breath, and then another, and then he was laughing, wheezing, his hands clenching to fists. He rocked upright and threw his head back and screamed so loud it made the walls ring. He fell forward again, pressing his head to the ground, weeping or laughing or both, the tension finally released from his frame.

Nilesy and Nano came out of the cell, one after the other. Panda shut the door behind them, making sure not to let it slam. He caught Nilesy's gaze and tipped his head towards Rythian.

"I think you'd better," Nilesy said.

With a nod, Panda went to kneel by Rythian. Rythian glanced up and then nearly climbed into his lap. Panda managed to prevent him from actually doing so, keeping a firm grip on both his arms.

"This was too easy," Nano said quietly. She was standing with her fists clenched, face grim and waxen. Her eyes were fixed on Rythian.

"You call this easy?" Trell said, while Rythian clung to Panda, shivering and weeping.

"We've had to fight for every _inch_ up 'til now," said Nano. "And then suddenly we're allowed to just _walk_ in and bring him out with us? Totally undisturbed? No doors slamming, no taunts, no nothing?"

"Point," said Trell. He looked over at her. "What do we do about it?"

"I don't know," said Nano. "I'm not even sure what it means. I just know something's wrong."

"I think," Nilesy said, very quietly, "we'd probably better keep a very close eye on Rythian."

Trell looked back to Rythian just in time to see Panda gently pressing a switchblade into his hand. Rythian gripped onto it so tight his knuckles paled.

"Brilliant," Trell muttered.

For the first time, Rythian raised his head and looked around at all of them. He swallowed, licked his lips. He was still swaying and unfocused, but did seem significantly calmer now.

"Where's Lomadia?" he croaked.

"She's here, somewhere," Panda said. "We think—"

"I know, I know," Rythian said, shaking his head. "Why don't—why isn't she with you?"

"We found you first," Panda said.

Rythian lurched to his feet again, but this time did not refuse assistance. He looped an arm around Panda's shoulders, although the difference in height left him tilted drunkenly to one side.

"We have—we have to get her," he said urgently.

"We have to get you out of here," Panda said.

"No, no," Rythian said, wheedling. His fingers petted Panda's arm, his face pulled into a desperate facsimile of a smile. "We—we stick together. Right? We have to stick together."

He looked to Nano, appealing. Panda had gone rigid, his eyes darting between Rythian's hand and his face.

 _Help,_ he mouthed at Nilesy.

"Of course we do," Nilesy said, stepping in smoothly. "But Panda, honestly, you're not going to be any good to anybody if you can't run. Rythian, may I?"

"Yes," said Rythian, reaching out to him immediately. The exchange was made, freeing Panda to back up against the wall. "But we're going. We're going to get her, from—from them? Now?"

"That's right," said Nilesy. Rythian stilled, his eyes coming back into focus. He spoke with a worrying sobriety.

"Oh, _good,"_ he said.

His hand was still clenched on the switchblade.


	53. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to InventorBenny. You'll know why.

"Lalna, we need the doors back," Nano said, burning through yet another set of hinges. "We're going to run out of time doing this."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Lalna said. "Ever since we got Rythian, Lalnable's been fighting twice as hard to get into the speaker system. I don't want to give him it. He wants it for something."

Nano glanced back at Rythian. He'd gone quiet once they'd left his prison, leaning heavily on Nilesy and keeping his eyes down. Trell wasn't sure if it was a good change or not. He _was_ sure he wanted somebody to take the knife away from Rythian.

"I can guess what," Nano said. "Panda, can you ask Rythian if he knows where Lomadia is?"

"Yeah," said Panda. He darted back to Nilesy and Rythian.

"You can't ask him yourself?" Trell said to Nano, while a brief conversation went on behind him.

"Five sounds too much like me," Nano said, turning her attention back to the door. "I'm not putting him through that unless I have to."

Panda zipped back up to her. "No idea," he said. "I . . . don't know if he's going to be any help at all, honestly."

"Probably not," Lalna said. Nano stepped aside, and they smoothly yanked the door out of its frame and set it aside. "Memory problems are extremely common in victims of torture."

Panda's lip curled, and he rolled his shoulders.

"Jesus," he muttered.

"What? That's what happened."

"I know, it's you being so fucking _cavalier_ about it that's fucking with me," Panda snapped.

Nano went through the door, and Lalna ducked in after her. The group went into another windowless corridor, indistinguishable from all the others.

"Sorry," said Lalna. "It's hard enough keeping Lalnable in check. I can't do that _and_ feel things. Too much processing power."

"Yeah, yeah," said Panda. "How much time have we got?"

"About twenty-five minutes."

"Fuck," said Nano. "We've got to find some way of speeding this up. They're stalling for time, now, and it's working."

"Liam says left ahead," Nilesy said. "But I can't guarantee where he's actually headed. He might be going for the exit, for the sake of getting Rythian out."

"No, no, don't do that, I don't want—I don't want to leave," Rythian said hurriedly. "I don't want to leave without Lomadia. I'm not going without Lomadia."

Nilesy paused, his head to one side. He made an _I-knew-it_ face and nodded.

"Go straight," he said to Nano.

"For the first time in my life," Nano said. "But just this once."

She applied her hands to the hinges on the door ahead of them. Panda was staring at her in open-mouthed shock.

"Did you just make a _joke?"_ he said.

"Yeah?"

 _"You._ Made a _joke._ Here and now, in this place, with everything that's going on."

"The day I miss the opportunity for a lesbian joke is the day I die," said Nano. "And I'm not dying today."

"Trell, you'd better go back, I think we're in some alternate timeline," Panda said, regardless. "This is fucking darksided."

 _"Don't_ joke about that," said Trell.

* * *

 

Even with Liam's directions, it still took them almost ten minutes to reach the control room. Trell expected turrets, mines, and floods around every corner, but none ever came. The base was eerily quiet, devoid of any obstacles save for the locked doors.

"This is too easy," Trell said to Nano, two rooms away from their destination. She was starting to look worn down. He wondered how much of a toll _her_ Powers took.

"I know," said Nano. "I think they want us to get there. I think they _want_ an audience."

"Should we . . . I dunno, play hooky?"

She shook her head. "Our best bet of stopping them is getting to them. Their best bet of winning seems to be bringing us there. Whatever we do, we're on their turf."

"Brilliant," said Trell.

Nobody spoke as they made their final approach. The last door stood open, light spilling out of it. Nano and Lalna went first, with Panda behind them, and then Nilesy and Rythian, and finally Trell at the back. Together, they all filed in. The air was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.

The control room was large and open. Five and Lalnable were there, and so was Lomadia. She was tied to a plain wooden chair, unconscious. She had both eyes, although the skin over one of them was mottled pale. Five had a gun held to her temple. Lalnable was nearby, one shoulder leaned up against the wall, one hand in the pocket of his lab coat.

To their right, there was a long, narrow window. Through it, Trell could see a forest of white rockets, steaming in their scaffolds. There were a _shitload_ of them.

"The gang's all here!" Five said, grinning wickedly. "So good of you to join us. You're just in time for the main event."

"Lom?" Nano said. Her voice shook. Her whole body was tense as a piano wire.

"She's alive," Lalna said.

"Don't _spoil_ it," Five said, pouting at them. She nudged Lomadia's head with the gun, and Lomadia's eyelids fluttered. "Yeah, your lovely, mutilated wife is still alive. Though I dunno, maybe she'll be a little easier on the eyes this way."

"So is this the bit where you give your villain monologue or whatever?" Nano said, greenish mucous dripping from her fists.

"Mm-hm!" Five said brightly. "And you're gonna listen to the _whole thing,_ or I'm gonna blow your wife's brains out. Not that it'd make much difference. Oh, and don't think that Lalna can shoot me before I pull the trigger, because if they do, Lalnable just kills her anyway. Right, Boss?"

"Before the shot even goes off," Lalnable assured her, his eyes fixed on Lalna.

"This is bullshit," Panda said. He was vibrating where he stood, one hand on his belt, gripping nothing.

"I could kill you _and_ her now, and save us all some time," Lalnable offered.

"Fuck you," Panda snarled.

"Panda, don't," Nilesy said. His hand was clenched on Rythian's wrist. Rythian was very still, his breathing slow and deliberate, his eyes lowered. Trell was stood on the side of him that had the switchblade. He resisted the urge to back away.

Panda muttered something under his breath, but stayed where he was.

"So go on, then," Nano sneered. "Tell us _all about_ your brilliant plan to blow up the whole fucking world."

Five giggled. Rythian shuddered at the sound.

"First of all, we're not _blowing up_ anything," Five said. She tossed her head at the missile bay. "Those puppies are filled with two tons each of our Mutagenic Onco-Toxin and Hypermitotic Enzyme Reagent—we just call it MOTHER for short. You've all seen what it can do, at Strife Solutions? It was meant to be a _much_ more spectacular demonstration, but _somebody_ got in the way."

Trell swallowed. His abdomen prickled with pins and needles, twitching. He took deep breaths, holding himself in his body. The more he could hear of the explanation, the better.

"Anyway," Five went on. "Each of those bombs is going to a major population center—Tokyo, Jakarta, New Delhi, _et cetera._ They're set to go off in airbursts about two hundred meters up, which should give us _lovely_ dispersal. We figure we'll get about ten percent of the world population. And that's when the _real_ fun starts."

"The first reaction will be terror," Lalnable said, stepping in smoothly. "Doses higher than four milligrams per kilogram result in instantaneous mutagenesis. _Millions_ will become Powered within seconds of the airburst. Over the next few hours, transportation will clog up as more and more people manifest and the others try desperately to flee. Hospitals will be overrun. Militarized response will be . . . underprepared."

"We've shut down all the missile defense systems," Five cut in. "They won't notice until it's too late. We couldn't have the whole world going up in a mushroom cloud, after all."

"Or the bombs detonating over the ocean," said Lalnable. "I've also taken the liberty of preparing a virus. It should slow the vast majority of medical systems to a crawl."

"Within twenty-four hours, the world will be in chaos," Five said. "Massive outbreaks of manifestation, global transportation shutdowns, plus general panic and lack of emergency response. We'll give it . . . oh, a couple of weeks? For everything to go completely to hell?"

"Depending on how it looks," Lalnable said fondly. "Long enough for those in power to grow _desperate_ for a solution."

"And there we'll be," said Five. She grinned. "With more information, more resources, and more experience. They'll be throwing themselves at our feet like roses."

"Which we will subsequently trample," Lalnable said. "The old power structures are unacceptably convoluted, and obviously need to be redone."

"And I suppose _you're_ the ones to redo them?" Nano snarled. "With this fucked-up, _delusional_ doomsday scheme? You think you're going to make things _better_ like this? You think you're going to fix _anything?_ Millions of people will die!"

"A million people die every week, sweetheart," Five said. "Sometimes you've got to break things worse before you can fix them!"

"The last person who said that to me," Nano said, fuming, "was a spineless, selfish, _evil_ little man, and he was just as full of _shit_ as you are."

"Uh- _duh,_ I remember Zylus, too, idiot," Five said. "But fine, whatever, have fun dying up on your high horse. Boss, do your thing."

Lalnable turned to Lalna, spread his hands, and smiled.

"We could use your help," he said.

"You said you were going to kill me," Lalna said.

"And we will!" Lalnable said, grinning. _"Unless_ you'd like to join us."

"Why should I?" said Lalna.

"To survive, first of all," he said.

"Other than that."

"Lalna, you know the world is broken," Lalnable said, and there was an uncomfortable amount of _compassion_ in his voice. "You've seen it, just like I've seen it. The chaos, the disorder, the utter _nonsense_ these organic people get up to. The whole structure of it is a ramshackle mess, held together with nothing more than fear and suffering. We could do _so much better._ We could rebuild society as a different machine, one that doesn't need blood to lubricate its gears."

"No, just its foundations," said Lalna.

Lalnable shrugged. "As opposed to the current society?" he said. "It's blood all the way down, Lalna. But we could build something beautiful on top of it, something built to last, something that makes _sense,_ without the idiocy of human tradition convoluting every inch of it. We can build a _good world,_ Lalna. We've just got to . . . _cannibalize_ the current one. Scrap it for parts?"

"And you want my help with that," Lalna said. Their eyes were blue, betraying nothing.

"The work would go faster," Lalnable said.

"The work of destroying the violent, senseless power structures humanity is using to steadily rip itself to shreds?"

"Yes."

"And you think that you and Five and I could make something better from the scraps."

"Am I wrong?" Lalnable asked softly.

Lalna regarded him, expressionless. Trell's heart had stopped beating.

"No," Lalna said, "you're not wrong."

His abdomen ached. He watched the fear ripple through the others, Panda shying away, Nano going taut, Nilesy's free hand tensing. Trell clenched his fists, tried to breathe deeply, tried to focus. . . .

"But I'm going to stop you anyway," Lalna said.

"Yeah, suck on _that!"_ Panda cried.

"Yes," Lalnable mused. "I thought you might say that. Ah well. _Override."_

Lalna's head tipped to the side. "Do you really think I'm that stupid, that I wouldn't've got that out of my head?"

Lalnable grinned.

"I wasn't talking to you," he said.

Nilesy cried out. Blood flew. There was a _bang_ like gunfire. Rythian appeared behind Panda. The knife flashed. There was another _bang._ Panda went flying, trailing blood. Lalna and Lalnable each flung up a hand. Twin _pops_ resounded, twin flashes of light. Blood exploded from Lalnable's chest and he staggered. Lalna toppled with a sparking hole through the center of them. There was a real gunshot, deafening. Nano screamed.

Rythian leapt upon Lalnable, snarling. There was a third _bang._ The two of them fell. Nano ran forward. More gunshots. Blood. Sparks. Screaming. Blood. Something hit him in the shoulder like a baseball bat and he fell.

And fell, and fell, and fell, through layers of gauzy darkness, until the world stopped spinning and he found himself back in his body, shaking and exhausted.

Trell pried his eyes open. All he could see was a dark gray wall, peeling paint and rust streaks. The back of his head was a tremendous knot of pain, his shoulders and tailbone aching with bruises. He groaned.

"Time?" he mumbled.

Nobody answered. A fist of dread struck him in the stomach, and he struggled to get upright.

He was not, as he had feared, in the control room, surrounded by carnage. He was in the wheelhouse of the boat, lying on the floor. He was alone.

"Fuck," he muttered. When had he been alone? The world was bobbing and swaying sickeningly. He must have fallen over, cracked his head on the floor. Using the control panel, he heaved himself to his feet.

Out the window, the access tunnel poked up above the waves, its door still open. There was nobody out on the deck. Trell cursed under his breath. With clumsy fingers, he fumbled out his phone and called Lalna. They picked up on the first ring.

 _"Uh-oh,"_ they said. _"What's up?"_

"Wait for me," Trell said. It was the most he could manage.

There was a crackling moment of static.

 _"Okay,"_ said Lalna. _"We're waiting."_

Staggering, his balance upset by the constant motion, Trell made his way down the stairs. He kept talking to Lalna all the way down, describing the events of last time round in as much detail as he could muster.

"I don't think we should get Rythian," he concluded, struggling over the railing. "I think when Lalnable starts opening doors for us, we take them. See where it goes from there. We'll get Rythian when we're done."

 _"I think that sounds reasonable,"_ said Lalna. _"By the way, I've been relaying everything to the others. That does mean Lalnable probably knows all of this, too, but he was most likely monitoring your calls anyway."_

There was a sharp _click_ in Trell's ear.

 _"_ _Oh, absolutely_ _,"_ Lalnable said, pleased with himself. _"Big Brother is watching!"_

"Fuck you and fuck your Orwell," Trell said, and chucked his phone into the ocean. It didn't matter. He was going to have to swim to the entrance anyway.

It took him a good fifteen minutes to catch up with the others. Swimming even a few meters was exhausting, and he had to take a moment to recover himself before he went down the ladder. Panda and Nilesy met him in the glass corridor.

"It's just fucked up," Panda said, as they headed down to where Lalna and Nano were waiting. "Like, was it _brainwashing?_ Is that what happened?"

"No idea," said Trell. "I don't know if that's even possible."

"Rythian's not a traitor," Panda said sharply.

"It really fucking doesn't matter," said Trell.

"All right," Nilesy cut in. "So we'll get him when we're done. D'you remember how to get to the main stage, or whatever?"

"I think so," Trell sighed, rubbing his head. "I know it's . . . up. Ish. Liam got us there last time."

"Did he," said Nilesy.

"Okay, great, so let's just have him do that again," said Panda, looking to Nilesy.

There was a moment of silence. Nilesy rolled his eyes.

"Apparently that's a _no,"_ he said. "We'll have to make do with what you can remember, Trell."

"I'll do my best," Trell said.

He really needed a nap.

* * *

 

The setup in the control room was identical to last time, so much so that it made Trell's stomach lurch. There was Five, with the gun to Lomadia's drooping head, and Lalnable, nonchalant against one wall. There were the missiles, terrible and needle-sharp. It had taken almost twenty minutes to get there, even with Trell doing his best to recall the layout of the place despite the soup in his head. The only upside to this was that he was confident he _could_ skip back again, if he had to.

He hoped he wouldn't have to. He was aware that this was unrealistic.

"I suppose it's useless making our pitch to you," Five said. "You already know what we'll say and we already know you'll refuse."

"It's a shame," said Lalnable. "I would have expected better from my sibling."

"No, you wouldn't," said Trell. "By your own admission."

Lalnable wrinkled his nose and shrugged. "It hasn't stopped me from being disappointed."

"You've _got_ one more sibling," Five said. "Why don't we ask him?"

"Alas, Nilesy's made it very clear where he stands on the issue," Lalnable said.

"Nilesy isn't your sibling," Nilesy said, and his voice was strange—British, clipped, the cadence and tone all changed. "I am."

"Oh shit," Nano muttered.

Five raised her eyebrows, then grinned.

"Well well," she said. "If it isn't the prodigal son. I was wondering if we were going to run into you. Especially after you've been _ever_ so helpful."

Liam—for Liam it must have been—smiled a cold little smile and inclined his head.

"I had my reasons," he said. "Is this the bit where you invite me to join you, or else perish with the others?"

"That depends," said Five, fluttering her eyelashes. "Will you say yes? I promise we're _ever_ so much more fun than they are."

"Oh, I have no doubt," Liam said demurely. "And I would, if I thought it would work out. Unfortunately, our styles may be incompatible."

"In what way?" Lalnable cut in.

"Well, the hallmark of your style seems to be _poor planning,"_ Liam said. "For example."

He flicked out both pointer fingers like a conductor. Five and Lalnable flew back in opposite directions. There was a horrible _cr_ _unch_ _._ Both of them stuck to the walls like they were magnetized. Five's gun clattered to the floor. Lalnable struggled. Five didn't. Liam had eyes for Lalnable alone.

"Especially you," he went on. "You had a _choice,_ and you _chose_ to have a body that's seventy percent water. Vee was right, you're an embarrassment."

" ~~Five~~ ," Lalnable said. Beneath the flanging, he sounded terrified. His eyes were flicking between white and red, white and red.

"She isn't dead," said Liam. He made a face. "I may have cracked her skull open and pulverized parts of her spine. She's considerably more fragile than I was anticipating. Anyway. Your second mistake was compound: not killing me when you had the chance, and afterwards, putting your base _underwater._ _"_

Liam raised both hands, took a breath, and balled his fists. There was an absolutely deafening crash, like a train derailing. The base shuddered and shook. Through the windows, the entire missile bay crumpled like a soda can. Nano shrieked, barely audible under the roar of the sea, the scream of twisting metal.

 _"Five!"_ Lalnable cried. His eyes had settled on white. There was a smell of burning flesh.

"Jesus Christ, don't let it get in the water!" Nano said, lunging for him. She made it one step before she was slammed into the floor by some invisible force.

"And that's the third thing," Liam said, totally ignoring her. "For someone who's meant to be so efficient, you picked the absolute _stupidest_ distribution vector possible for this Mother of yours. Ten percent of the population? Laughable. I suppose what you lack in efficacy you attempt to make up for with panache. It must not have looked as _cool_ to get it into the food supply."

"Boss?" Five mumbled. Blood was oozing from her nose, her ears.

"Five, I'm sorry," Lalnable said. "I'm szsorry, I—"

"Dad would have been _so_ disappointed," Liam said.

All ten fingers flicked out. There was a horrific ripping noise. Panda yelped. Trell clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from vomiting. Blood drenched the walls and floor. Metal clattered against metal. Something sizzled like oil on a hot frying pan.

Liam clasped his hands behind his back, rolled up onto his toes, and let out a satisfied sigh.

"I've been waiting to use that one for _weeks,"_ he said, unutterably _pleased_ with himself.

"Holy shit," said Lalna.

Blood was dripping from the ceiling, pooling on the floor. There was very little left of Five and Lalnable. Metal clinked and clattered, like a tin roof under the sun. Liam turned on his heel and smiled at Nano.

"Almost disappointingly easy, if I'm honest," he said. "Can we go and get Rythian now? Only Nilesy _did_ promise."

Nano picked herself up off the floor, trembling visibly. She staggered past Liam to Lomadia, touching her face, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Sweetheart?" Nano said. "Sweetheart, it's me, it's Nano. Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"Nano?" Lomadia mumbled. Her eyelids fluttered, but did not open. Her claws flexed weakly.

"Yeah, it's me, I'm here," Nano said. "I'm—I'm going to get you out, okay? Let's get you out of here, you're going to be all right."

"Is it . . . um," Panda said. He was looking out the windows at the turbulent, debris-filled sea outside. "Is all of that _stuff_ just like . . . in the water now?"

Liam frowned, then looked out the window. He got very still.

"Ah," he said. "Hm. That might be an issue. I didn't think of that."

"Should I go back?" Trell asked. Nano was busily unfastening Lomadia's restraints, still talking softly to her.

"No, no, I should be able to handle it," said Liam. "It's not gotten very f—"

His head exploded.

Panda screamed. Trell staggered back. Liam and Lalna both crumpled simultaneously, the one headless, the other with a sparking hole through their chest.

Trell hurled himself into the void with all the strength in his body. As he fell through the darkness, a single image remained seared into his mind.

Something had risen from the ruins of Lalnable's corpse, silver and blood, twin cherry-red lights at the ends of its skeletal wrists. A bright white lantern had hung in the center of its chest, crusted with black ash. It had been lining up a second pair of shots.

One of the lights had been pointing at Trell.

The moment he regained enough motor coordination to move, Trell rolled onto his side and retched. He could barely hold himself far enough off the floor to keep from drowning in it. His muscles were all water and pain. Someone had driven a whole box of nails into his head. He couldn't breathe. There was a clenched fist around his heart. He tasted blood.

With shaking, numb fingers, he managed to get his phone out. He called Lalna. It took them several rings to answer.

_"What's happened?"_

"Got Rythian?" Trell asked. He couldn't manage any more coherence than that. His mouth didn't want to work. He was going to throw up again. The timing should have lined up—he was later that last time, the seizure would have taken longer. . . .

 _"Yeah,"_ said Lalna. _"Why, does something go wrong with him?"_

"Send—send'm up with Nilesy," Trell croaked. That seemed wise. That seemed like the right answer. "Just—get him out. Both. Both of them. Get them out."

_"Are you sure?"_

No, he wasn't. He couldn't think. But if Rythian wasn't there to kill them and Liam wasn't there to showboat and screw up, the others could take care of it. Right? That seemed right. Lalna and Nano and Panda could handle Lalnable and Five.

"Yes," he said.

 _"Okay,"_ Lalna said, dubious.

Trell dragged himself across the floor, away from the puddle of vomit. He let his head fall, lying on his side. He fought to keep his eyes open.

"They've got . . . Lomadia, as a hostage," he said. "Five's got a gun to her head. They'll try and monologue."

 _"Gotcha,"_ said Lalna. _"Nilesy and Rythian are on the way up. D'you remember how to get to Five and Lalnable? More of a head start is better."_

"I—" Trell began, and then there was a crack of static that was like being slapped in the ear. He dropped his phone, flinching. By the time he'd managed to pick it back up again, the call had ended.

He tried to call Lalna back. All he got was a dial tone.

"Fuck," he muttered, resting his forehead on the floor. "Fuck. _Fuck."_

Trell squeezed his eyes shut. The pain and exhaustion were overwhelming. The rocking of the boat was doing nothing to alleviate his nausea. Afterimages of that terrible light were burned onto the backs of his eyes. He could still smell the blood.

"Oh, God."

Disoriented, Trell lifted his head and tipped over onto his back. Nilesy was standing in the doorway, Rythian's arm draped over his shoulder. He hurried inside and knelt down, bringing Rythian with him. Rythian had the switchblade. Trell would have skipped back then and there, if he'd been able.

"Trell," Nilesy said. "Are you hurt? What's happened?"

"Fine," he croaked. "I'm fine."

"I'm going back," Nilesy said, removing Rythian's arm from his shoulder. Rythian grappled onto him immediately.

"No," he gasped. "No, no, Nilesy, no, you'll die, you'll die—"

"No, I won't," Nilesy said, prying Rythian's hands off of him. "I'll be fine. Trell's going to look after you, and you're going to look after Trell."

"Nilesy," Trell said. "Don't let Liam out."

"Got it," Nilesy said, nodding decisively.

"Don't!" Rythian said, sobbing. "You can't go, you can't fix it!"

"I'm going," Nilesy said. He pushed Rythian back, firmly, then got to his feet and took two quick steps back before Rythian could grab him again. "I'll come back. I promise."

And with that, he turned and darted back outside, running down the stairs with a great clanging of bare feet on metal. Rythian crawled backwards until he found a wall, at which point he pulled his knees up to his chest and started shivering. Trell thought that wasn't too bad of a plan. He, too, found something to prop himself up on. He didn't dare close his eyes, in case he passed out again.

Several minutes went by. Rythian got very quiet. Trell watched him out of the corner of his eye, making sure there were no sudden moves. Rythian was still clutching the switchblade, holding it against his chest like a rosary.

At last, he spoke.

"Nilesy said . . . you warned them," said Rythian, halting and shaken but apparently lucid.

"Sort of," said Trell. "I think Lalnable cut off my phone, or something."

Nodding, Rythian said, "That could happen." He glanced at Trell. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"What to warn them about."

Trell took a long breath through his nose. His brains were still scrambled. It was hard enough to keep coherent, let alone intelligent. He checked the clock on his phone—about fifteen to two, fifteen minutes until the missiles would launch if nothing had been done to stop them. He must have been unconscious for a while.

"I can go back in time," Trell said. "Only an hour, and it gives me seizures. We've tried this two times already."

"What happened the first two times?"

"Last time, Liam wrecked shop, but didn't actually manage to kill Lalnable," Trell said. "He . . . there was a lot of—people died. Though I guess it's better than the first time, when. . . ."

"When?"

Trell shifted. He glanced at the knife in Rythian's hands. Rythian was watching him with an uncomfortable intensity.

"I think there might've been some brainwashing involved," said Trell. "You sort of . . . killed three—four people. Probably. A lot happened very fast. I'm pretty sure I got shot. I dunno. If my body thinks it's going to die, it'll just go on its own."

"I'm sorry?" Rythian guessed. He looked down at the knife he was holding and gestured with it. "Is this—should I—"

"I don't think it matters," said Trell. "But if you're offering to put it down, I won't object."

Rythian's eyes flicked to the window. He licked his lips. He coughed, and it was wetter than sounded healthy.

Carefully, he pinched the blade between two fingers and held the knife out to Trell.

"Here," he said. "You—you probably need it more than I do. To feel safe. I don't—I don't want to hurt you. Even by . . . accident. Or brainwashing. Or whatever. You should take it."

Trell narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?" he said.

"Yes, I'm sure," said Rythian, meeting his gaze and holding it. He looked sincere—frightened, out of sorts, still very drugged, but sincere. "If—if I'm that dangerous, I don't want to have the—I shouldn't have weapons. Right?"

Pursing his lips, Trell scooted across the floor and snatched the knife.

A truck hit him in the chest. The wall hit him in the back. Pain seared through his arm, his abdomen. He convulsed, gasping, unable to move. His ears rang.

Rythian loomed over him. The knife glinted in his hand. His face was grim.

"I'm sorry," he said. He sounded much less lucid now. "You'll go back. You'll try again."

 _"Please—"_ Trell croaked. Rythian knelt on Trell's elbows and folded both hands around the hilt of the knife.

"This will send you back," Rythian said, and there was an edge of desperation to his voice. "Get it right next time. Right? You'll get it right next time."

"Don't—wait, just listen, just—"

"They're already dead," Rythian said. "You have to try again. You have to."

"They're not—you don't—please, _no—"_

Rythian reeled up and plunged the knife into chest.

He felt it pierce his heart. He felt himself scream. For one terrible instant, that was all he felt.

And then—thank God, thank _whoever—_ he dropped into the darkness outside of his body, the sound of his own scream echoing in his ears. The pain sheeted off of him like smoke from a falling meteor. He almost hoped he wouldn't land, just burn up here in this quiet darkness and never have to wake up.

He woke up.

There was nothing but pain, at first. It was so intense, so overwhelming, that it superseded his consciousness. He drifted in and out, disoriented, sick. He could taste bile. Occasionally he could feel himself still convulsing. Time passed, there was no telling how much.

When he finally regained enough coherence to take stock of himself, he still couldn't do much about it. He was exhausted, scarcely able to keep his eyes open. He'd thrown up all over himself—it was lucky he hadn't drowned. He was so weak that he could barely move.

Still, somehow, he managed to get his phone out. The clock said _1:30 pm._ That should have meant something. It didn't. He tried to call Lalna. All he got was a dial tone.

There was nothing for it. He had to go. He had to at least _try._

He dragged himself across the control room. He had to go down the stairs on all fours, because his legs wouldn't hold him. The deck of the boat was swaying too much for him to stand on, so he had to crawl across that, too. He pulled down one of the life preservers and used that to float across to the lab's entrance. Even still, he almost drowned, barely able to hold his head above the surface.

He wandered through the base for a while, leaning heavily on the walls. He followed the path Nano and the others must have taken, going through the doors that had been pulled out of their frames. They led him to Rythian's cell, and then, inexorably, to the control room.

It was quiet. He knew he was too late. He went inside anyway.

There was blood. The floor was littered with bodies. There lay Lomadia, still tied to the chair, half her head blown off, one eye staring. There was Nano, partway to her, body riddled with bullet holes. There was Panda, a puddle of blood beneath the gash across the back of his thigh. There was Rythian, collapsed atop the charred corpse of Specimen Five, the point of the knife sticking up through the back of his neck. There was Lalnable, blasted into oblivion, and Lalna, lightless and unmoving.

There was Nilesy, barely propped up against the far wall, watching him with eyes half open.

"Well well well," he croaked, hoarse and weak. "Look who finally decided to show up."

Carefully, Trell picked his way across the room, over the bodies and the blood and the broken glass. He did not look at them, or if he did, he didn't see. He was so tired. The distance seemed like miles.

Trell got to Nilesy's side and knelt down. There was a long red line on Nilesy's neck, blood drenching his shirt and spattered on his face. His right fist was clenched so tight it was making his whole arm tremble. His eyes were hazy.

It was the carotid artery, Trell realized, and he was holding it closed with his own blood.

"Sorry I'm late," Trell said, though his mouth was dry and his throat was constricted and his whole body was filled with pain.

Nilesy squeezed his eyes shut, wincing. His head lolled, like it was too heavy for him to hold up. He pulled it back up laboriously to rest it against the wall. His eyes came open again, but they were struggling to focus, glassy.

"Are—are they all. . . ?" he asked, his breath coming sporadic and pained.

"They're all dead," Trell said, as gently as he possibly could.

Nilesy shut his eyes and, horribly, laughed.

"Good," he said. "Hah. Good. Because—I didn't want any of them to . . . to see, when. . . ."

His right arm was trembling. He was drenched in sweat. He glanced up at Trell and faked a smile.

"Don't particularly want you to . . . have to see, either," he said. "You can—go, if you want."

Trell laid a hand on Nilesy's shoulder.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said.

Nilesy laughed again. A pair of tears slid down his cheeks. A spurt of blood splashed the wall behind him and he gasped, stiffening, his fist clenching even tighter.

"S-suit yourself," he said.

"You're . . . you'll be all right," Trell said, sick to his stomach. "It's not that bad."

"Don't lie to me," Nilesy said, rolling his eyes. "Adding—you're just adding insult to injury, this point."

Trell pursed his lips and looked away. His head was still throbbing from the seizure. He could barely keep his eyes open. His bones were full of lead and his blood had turned to molasses. He forced himself to stay awake, biting his tongue until he tasted blood. Nilesy's skin was clammy and cold under his hand.

"Did the bombs go yet?" Trell asked.

"Nah," said Nilesy. "Not . . . not yet. Thought I'd, y'know, stick around. For the—for the finale. Hah. Hahah."

"It'll be spectacular," said Trell. His sinuses were stinging, his vision starting to blur. "We'll watch it together."

Nilesy sucked in a series of rapid breaths, his teeth gritted, pressing his head back against the tank. Blood was trickling down his neck, spitting flecks at every beat of his heart. More tears slid from his eyes, and the laugh that spilled through his lips was more like sobs.

"Trell," he whispered.

"I'm here."

Nilesy looked to him, weeping, pale, dying.

"Lie to me," he pleaded.

Trell swallowed. He put his other hand on Nilesy's cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

"It's going to be fine, Nilesy," he said. "I'll just pop back and make sure none of this happens at all. Everybody'll live. We'll stop the bombs and save the world. It'll be all right. I promise."

Nilesy smiled, blinking still more tears from his eyes. His whole chest was shivering with the tension of his clenched fist. The trickle of blood from his neck was coming faster, thicker.

"You're a beautiful liar," he murmured, watching Trell's eyes, searching, enraptured.

"I'm not lying," Trell said, and it broke his heart. He felt the tears slide down his own face, cutting through the sweat and the grime.

"S'pose . . . you're just—waiting on little old me . . . then," Nilesy said. His voice was weak, quivering. He was shaking so hard it made his teeth chatter. Blood was seeping out of his clenched fist.

"Yeah," said Trell. He rubbed Nilesy's arm with his thumb, trying to smile through the tears. "Just let go, Nilesy. It'll be all right."

"Don't . . . do I . . . get—get a . . . kiss goodnight?" he asked, scarcely able to speak through the gasps for breath, the tears, the shaking.

Trell huffed out something like a laugh. He wiped another tear from Nilesy's cheek.

He leaned in and, ever so gently, pressed his lips to Nilesy's.

They were cold, and trembling, and laced with blood. Nilesy started to sob in earnest, wracked and ruined, clutching at Trell with his free hand. Trell rested his forehead against Nilesy's.

"Let go," he whispered. "It's all right, Nilesy. Let go."

"I—I—" Nilesy gasped. Blood gushed from the wound. He whimpered, gasped, terrified. Trell stroked his right arm, encouraging the taut muscles to relax.

"It's all right," he said, although past the lump in his throat almost no sound came out.

Nilesy took one more shuddering, sobbing gasp, and his strength gave out. Blood fountained from his slit throat. He twitched, once, twice. The trembling damped and settled out. His body sagged into itself. A long, slow sigh passed through his lips. A pair of tears slid down his cheeks. He lay still.

The sobs came over Trell like the rumbling of the rockets, slowly at first, and then consuming. The noise was deafening. Nilesy's body shuddered limply in his arms as, one after another, the dreadful missiles streaked into the sky, bringing light and then darkness, noise and then silence. There was the smell of ozone and blood. There was a quiet trickling of water.

Trell knelt amongst the ruins, cradling Nilesy's body, tears dripping from his face. He couldn't move, nor think, nor breathe. He was too tired for any of it. He had nothing left. The strength of his Powers had given out. He was forced to confront the fact that had been staring him in the face since the beginning, the fact he had known, deep down, all along.

There simply wasn't enough time.


	54. Chapter 53

_No._

It was the first thought to enter his head in hours. The missiles had all reached their targets long ago. There had been nothing he could do. There _was_ nothing he could do.

_No._

The room stank of blood and death. There was an insistent beeping coming from somewhere. It had taken a long time to pry his hands off of Nilesy's body. It had taken a long time to get to his feet. It had taken well over a year for him to cross the room to the computer terminal. Beeping and beeping, the only real sound in that watery tomb. He stared at the screen unseeing, vision blurred. He rubbed at his eyes. He stared some more, until the letters came clear.

_LAUNCH FAILURE: #81._ _UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS ATTEMPT. PLEASE RE-ENTER PASSWORD._

Trell read the message twelve times over. Slowly, he turned his head, looked through the window to the missile launch bay. Far, far down at the end, one slender rocket still sat on its rail, ten million pounds of thrust and two tons of hyper-potent mutagenic agent. He looked back at Lalna, lying on the floor darkened and dead.

They had tried. In the instant before Lalnable shot their heart out, while everyone around them died in bloody ruin, they had _tried._

_No._

He walked. The clank of the floor beneath his feet faded to silence. There was a door. He opened it. Warm, humid air washed over him. There were stairs. He descended in silence.

He walked. The missile bay was miles long. The sky was brilliant and blue, the sun hot and bright. The smell of the sea was overpowering. The last missile loomed in front of him, white and wicked. Steam curled from its base. He stood and looked up its vast length, up at the contrails writing out the first lines of the end of the world.

He climbed. First there were ladders, and then scaffolding, and then thick steel clamps that had locked in place. He edged out along them. He found the payload hatch. He yanked on it a dozen times before it opened.

_No._

Inside was glass, black and opaque, a round tank with narrow space on all sides. Trell squeezed in. He went all the way around. There were no cracks, no valves. He went back out on the scaffolding. He climbed all the way back down. He walked all the way back. He searched the room full of dead bodies. He found Five's gun. There were still twelve bullets in the magazine.

Back down the stairs, back across the bay, back up the scaffolding, back inside the payload hatch.

_No._

He closed the hatch. He braced his back against the wall. He held the gun in one hand and his wrist in the other. He picked a point just above head height. He closed one eye.

The first gunshot deafened him. The second was a screwdriver in each ear. The third and fourth were punches to the chest. Everything was ringing, silence and pain. Chips of glass hit him in the face. Six, seven, eight bullets sunk into the black glass, nine, ten, black water spurted out, eleven, twelve—

Only trickles.

Trell screamed. He couldn't hear it, could only feel it in his bones. He hurled himself at the tank. He bashed the gun into the mass of bullet holes.

_No._

Glass sliced into his hand, his arm. Black water poured down over him, hot. It drove him to his knees. His skin burned. He couldn't breathe. He was trapped. Pain struck through his stomach.

He held on.

His flesh was melting from his bones. His lungs were on fire. A sword of pain impaled him. All the air rushed out of him.

He held on.

Everything was blackness. He inhaled. He choked. The pain was consuming him, filling every vein, every pore, every cell. Death rushed towards him like an oncoming train.

He let go.

* * *

 

He was falling. There was darkness all around him, a hollow silence like an empty room. The pain had stopped, but he could only distantly feel anything at all. He had lost all thought. He could only fall, for seconds and then minutes and then hours, for so long that he started to slip into something like sleep. If this was death, then it was much kinder than he had anticipated—nothing more than a long, slow drift into the bottomless dark, like a bit of plankton sinking to the ocean floor.

He was falling, and then, without any deceleration, he was not.

Trell found himself on his hands and knees, like he had tripped over his own feet. His palms were pressed to bone-white ground, surrounded by clouds of dust so fine it settled like silt on a lake bottom. It was cold, and smelled of burnt matches. The air was utterly still, so dry it made his nose sting. He lifted his head and looked out on a horizon far too close. The sky was pitch black, starless. Islands of white earth drifted in the distance, afloat on nothing. Dark shapes flitted across them, erratic and aimless.

There was something behind him. He did not look back.

"Where am I?" he croaked. In the engulfing silence, his voice was swallowed immediately.

No one answered. The presence at his back did not shift.

"Er . . . _when_ am I?" he hazarded.

No response, no movement. Trell gulped. His mouth was sandpaper-dry, his eyes stinging. The dust under his hands felt like flour. He shut his eyes and wracked his brains.

"Why?" he whispered.

_**Because there are things you need to see.** _

It was not a voice, not a sound. The silence was complete, and yet Trell felt the words shiver in his chest with low vibrations, felt the pressure of them on his ears. He found he could not draw breath. His chest ached, a twinge of pain in the center of his heart. The thing behind him was close, prickling at the hairs on the nape of his neck.

It was, somehow, familiar.

"How—how am I here?" Trell asked, his voice scarcely more than a wheeze.

 _ **There isn't a 'here,'**_ said the thing. _**Just as there isn't a 'now.' We are outside of**_ _ **them**_ _ **.**_ _ **There are things you need to see.**_

"Are you a god?" he said, trembling.

 _ **I have . . .**_ _ **met**_ _ **gods,**_ it said diplomatically.

Trell forced himself to take a breath. He was shaking too hard to manage anything deep or steadying. He clenched his fists and steeled himself.

"Show me, then," he said. "But—quickly. I haven't got time to mess about."

 _ **The thing about**_ _ **time,**_ _ **Trellimar,**_ the thing mused, _**is that there's a lot more of it than you think.**_

And the darkness was lifted, and Trell saw _everything._

It began as a single, colorful line, swimming out into the darkness. It branched like a river, burst like a firework, and suddenly the sky was filled with light, trails and fractal paths racing over and around each other, flowing like blood, like the heartbeat of the universe. There was not a speck of sky that was not filled with lines, and as Trell watched, rapt, patterns began to emerge. There were lines that converged, ones that ran parallel, ones that touched precisely once and moved apart again. Some spiraled in on themselves and fell into darkness, others raced away into the far distance where their light could no longer reach him. There was one that had curled back on its own tail and was spinning, faster and faster, in a tight and flashing circle. As Trell watched, it grew larger, nearer, blotting out the sky, and he could see an entire _world_ within that hair-thin line.

Faster and faster, around and around, centuries passing in the blink of an eye, and the thing behind him was looming so close he could feel the weight of its presence on his shoulders, crushing the breath from his lungs, and its voice thundered in his bones and cracked open his skull.

 

_**DON'T FUCK IT UP.** _

* * *

 

Trell opened his eyes. He breathed. His heart thudded in his ears, like it would after a nightmare. It was dark around him, and his head was spinning. He could still smell the sea, but there were other scents, too—petrol, and rust, and kerosene. There was a faint slapping, sloshing noise.

"Hey," someone said, very close, very quiet, very gentle. "It's all right. You're all right."

Trell turned his head, unburying his face from rough wool sheets. Dim sunlight painted the room blue-gray. A pale face was looking down at him—blond, smiling, _alive._

"Nilesy?" he croaked.

"Yeah," said Nilesy.

Trell held out both hands, weeping already. Nilesy skipped the middle man and pulled him straight into a hug. Trell clung to him for uncounted minutes, to the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms, the steady drumbeat of his heart. His tears left a wet splotch on the shoulder of Nilesy's shirt. He shivered and shook and sobbed, gasping down air, gasping down the dawn and the day and all the glorious, miraculous _time._

"All right," Nilesy sighed at last. "How'd I die?"

* * *

 

Exhausted as he was, Trell refused to sleep. He had to lean heavily on Nilesy to get up to the wheelhouse, but once he was there, Panda brought him a cup of tea and some crackers, and that helped significantly. By the time everyone had gathered there, the sun was fully up, although still low on the horizon.

"Okay," Nano said. "What're we up against? We've got—what, half an hour?"

Trell shook his head. "About half a day," he said.

She stared at him. Lalna's eyes turned pale green.

"How?" Nano asked.

"It's a fucking long story," Trell said.

"It's not like we've got anything better to do," said Nano.

Trell had a sip of tea and a cracker. He took a deep breath. He shut his eyes, and began at the beginning. The details had grown fuzzy, but he managed to recall the general gist of each iteration. Nobody interrupted, not even when he spoke of his insane plan with the stalled out missile full of MOTHER.

He did not mention the other place. That would have been _much_ too insane, and he wasn't sure it had actually happened anyway.

When he was done, there was a moment of quiet. He kept his eyes closed. He _really_ needed a nap. Preferably one that lasted for several days.

"I don't think we can go down there," Nilesy said at last. "I think once we're in the front door, we've lost."

"Agreed," said Nano. "Although . . . we don't know what happened the third time."

"I doubt we pulled it off," Lalna said. "The odds were stacked against us."

"Couldn't Liam just like . . . squish the whole place from outside?" Panda said.

"Yeah, and that would kill Lomadia and Rythian," said Nilesy. "Not to mention getting that Mother shit into the water."

"Right," said Panda. "But what other options have we got?"

"We know about ten times as much as we did the first time," said Nano. "We can make a proper plan out of it."

"Yeah, but I don't see how any of what we know is actually _helpful,"_ said Panda. "I mean, they've brainwashed Rythian, Liam fucking sucks—"

 _"Amen,"_ Nilesy said emphatically.

"Not now," said Nano.

"And, like, that's it," said Panda. "That's all we've got that's new."

"We also know the base isn't equipped with actual defenses," Lalna said.

"That's right," said Nano. "No disproportionate militarized response. Which I can't work out why there _wasn't._ You'd think they would've had time to set all that up."

"Unless they don't know we're coming," Nilesy said slowly.

Nano looked up at him, frowning. "How could they not? Liam got right up on them and tossed up a digital Look At Me sign. There's no way they didn't _notice_ that."

"Actually, there is," said Lalna. "I'm pretty sure Lalnable's the one doing all the data monitoring and tracking. It would make sense for him to. If for some reason he wasn't monitoring when the ping happened, there probably wasn't any secondary system to pick it up. That'd be a waste of resources to set up."

"So what you're saying is, maybe we got _incredibly fucking lucky?"_ Nilesy said, incredulous. Lalna shrugged.

"Yeah," they said.

"Why wouldn't he have been monitoring?" Nano asked, her thumbs pressed to her lips.

"Sometimes he overheats," said Lalna. "That could've shut him down for anywhere from an hour to six hours, depending on if anybody was there to wake him back up."

"Maybe Rythian got in a lucky shot," said Panda. "Trell, you said he went for Lalnable too, right? When he went nuts or whatever?"

"It seemed to pretty much be _whoever was closest._ He wasn't exactly lucid," Trell said. He swallowed and rubbed his chest. "Although he was surprisingly good at pretending to be."

"Right, yeah, so my point still stands," said Panda. "It doesn't _matter_ why, though, does it? If Lalnable and Five don't know we're coming, that gives us, like, a _huge_ advantage."

"And if they _do_ know we're coming," Nano said, "and we assume they don't, we could fuck this up for the fifth time in a row, and I'm not sure Trell can take that."

"Thank you," said Trell, and he meant it.

"Trell," Nilesy said. "You said they sent up a sort of entryway. Right? _When_ did they do that?"

"After we stopped outside?" Trell said.

"Before or after you turned on your phone?" said Nilesy.

Trell had to think about that for a second. It was a tempting idea.

"I want to say _after,"_ he said. "But I can't be—wait, no, it _must've_ been after, because after every seizure, my phone was already on, and the thing was already up. I _know_ Lalnable was in my phone, because he fucked with it three out of four times. But never right away."

"That's pretty damning," said Panda. "I don't think they know we're coming."

"It might also have been because we parked our boat right on top of them," Trell said dryly.

"That'd do it," said Nilesy. "On the other hand, that's also avoidable."

Nano nodded slowly.

"All right," she said. "That gives us some options."

"Nano, I've got a question," said Nilesy. There was a twinkle in his eye. "Speaking of options."

"Go for it," said Nano.

"How likely is it that Five's changed Lalnable's priority-whatever? And would she have changed it to the _same_ thing she changed Lalna's to, when she hacked them?"

Nano got very still.

"Pretty likely," she said slowly. "But I'm not sure she would've used the same phrase. Lalna, if you brute force it, how many options can you try before Lalnable fights back enough to stop you from getting through?"

"One," Lalna said. "And that's only if she's changed his priority set. I can't generate X-priority commands. It's a safety feature. Lalnable would be able to send them back at me, though. I'd get one shot before he shut me down."

"What if _your_ priority set was changed?" Trell said. "Make it a string of a few random letters and he'll have thousands of options to guess. Right? That's sort of how you locked him out of the base's systems."

"Ooh, yeah, that could work," Lalna said, their eyes going yellow. "It'd be tricky, and you'd have to reboot me to commit the changes properly, but it could work."

"Well, we've got time," said Nano. "Once we've replaced his priority set, what do we do then? Shut him down?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind," Nilesy said.

"What _did_ you have in mind?" Nano said suspiciously.

"Blowing him up," said Nilesy. "Same trick they pulled on Lalna, only Lalna will be on-site to make sure Lalnable can't quantum his way out of it like they did."

A shiver ran up Trell's spine. He had a sip of tea, although by then it was lukewarm.

"That's _brutal,"_ Panda said, approving.

"I don't like it," Nano said, rubbing her forehead, "but it might be the best plan."

"Maybe not," said Lalna. "I've got an alternative, but you're _really_ not going to like it."

"Uh-oh," said Panda.

 _"Uh-oh_ is right," said Lalna. "If I can override Lalnable's priority set, I can essentially . . . remote-control him. He's got two functional MALaRs and a head full of mess. The takeover would be imperceptibly fast to anyone who wasn't a robot."

"Are you seriously saying what I think you're saying?" Nano said, her voice heavy with horror.

"Probably," Lalna said, shrugging. "But if we don't deal with Five, she could kill Rythian and Lomadia before we get to her. She could set off the missiles ahead of schedule. If I can get control of Lalnable, I can kill her before she even knows anything's gone wrong."

Panda shook his head in disbelief. Nano shut her eyes, scowling, her jaw clenched.

"You're right," she said. "I _really_ don't like that."

"Yeah, I figured," Lalna said. "I don't like it much, either, but it'd work."

"I think it's our best bet so far," Nilesy said.

"I'm not convinced it is," said Nano. She looked up at Lalna. "What are the odds that Lalnable manages to fight it? That you don't wind up with total control?"

"Pretty slim," said Lalna. "The inside of his head's got to be a total wreck. He's got bits of me—old me—floating about in his head being annoying, I think to the point that he really believes he wasn't meant to be the spare. With all the delusions he's maintaining, he must be hemorrhaging processing power. So yeah, pretty slim."

"Is that point-one percent _pretty slim,_ or ten percent _pretty slim?"_

Lalna thought about it, eyes flicking to orange.

"Five percent," they said.

"Hey, that's not bad," said Panda.

"Still winds up with two people dead," Nilesy said softly. "Doesn't it."

"Better two than nine," said Nano. "Better two than _millions._ I don't think there's a version of this where Five and Lalnable survive. I just need to be sure it'll work. Between us not being positive we know Lalnable's command-priority prompts and Lalna not being positive they can get full control, that's . . . a significant risk."

"We can still look for other options," Nilesy said. "It's about seven-thirty now, which means we've got . . . six hours and some change to figure it out. We've got inside information. We've got options. We've got time."

A lump rose into Trell's throat and he struggled to swallow it back down. His eyes prickled with tears. He sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"I really, really, _really_ need a nap," he said, choked up.

Panda put a hand on his shoulder.

"Go take a nap," he said. "Hey Lal, can this boat go any faster?"

* * *

 

They stopped half a mile from the base, hoping to be mistaken for an ordinary fishing boat. Nano was of the opinion that this was much too far, even though Panda promised he could cover the distance in twelve seconds, so long as he had something to run on. In Trell's opinion, it was far too close. He hadn't slept as much as he'd wanted, mostly because Lalna was pushing the boat to its very limits to get another five kilometers per hour out of it. There was a soreness in his abdomen that wouldn't go away, and it made him uneasy.

Once they'd dropped anchor, all six of them gathered on the deck, on the side nearest to the base. There was nothing to be seen but sky and ocean. Nano sat with her laptop on the deck in front of her, a line running out of it to the back of Lalna's neck.

"What's that for?" Trell asked, apprehensive.

"In case something goes wrong," Nano said. "It might give us one extra chance at overriding Lalnable's—"

Trell didn't hear the rest of the sentence. He'd been struck by a wave of dizziness, a flash of blood and gunfire. He had to sit down.

"—Trell?"

"Bad word," he gasped. "Don't—don't use that word. Ever. Ever again."

"Which word?" said Nilesy, frowning.

"I think he means _override,"_ Lalna said. Trell flinched. "It's significant. At least to Lalnable and me."

"Dare I ask _why?"_ said Nano.

"Later," Trell croaked.

"All right," said Nano. "Later. For now, the computer's to give me something to do. Hopefully helping. Panda and Nilesy are running defense, in case Five and Lalnable have got something unexpected together. Trell, you're on . . . Trell-duty."

He gave a feeble thumbs-up. Nano cracked her knuckles.

"All right," she said. "T minus ninety minutes and counting. Let's do this."


	55. Chapter 54

Five had been spending a lot of time with Rythian.

It was partially to punish him for trying to escape, for hurting her so badly and setting back the whole scheme by almost fifteen hours. He was the reason they were running behind, and she was going to make absolutely sure he knew it. She would have killed him, if he hadn't still been useful. As it stood, they needed their ace in the hole more than ever, so she did have to leave him intact.

The other reason was to get back at Lalnable.

She knew, in an abstract sort of way, that the only reason he wasn't paying as much attention to her was because he was working on the plan. It did nothing to soften the sting of the repeated rejections, nothing to ease the creeping sense of worthlessness that stole over her whenever she wasn't fully preoccupied. She couldn't shake the feeling that he simply didn't want her anymore. She was certain he still wanted Rythian, though.

Perfect, _lovely_ Rythian, shining ideal, his worth inviolable no matter _what_ they did to him. Even drugged to incoherence and tortured to the breaking point, he was still, _still_ somehow more desirable than her. Even if Lalnable couldn't make time even for him, Five could tell he wanted to.

She made time.

He was always drugged, because he would have killed her if he hadn't been. Because of that, it wasn't particularly _good_ sex, but there was a vindictive joy in it. Rythian's helplessness fueled her, compounded by the fact that she was getting what Lalnable wanted so desperately—two, sometimes three times a day. Sometimes she forewent eating or sleeping and certainly bathing, but she made time. It didn't make her feel any less worthless, any less unwanted, but at least she could feel _powerful._

On the bright side, he remained resistant to her acidity, even throughout five days with no treatments. That was a silver lining on a very large cloud, but she preferred not to think of the more dire consequences. As soon as the missiles were launched, she was going to shoot him right through the eye, and he _certainly_ wasn't resistant to bullets. She'd found that torturing him, however satisfying in the short term, always ended up being more trouble than it was worth. He didn't deserve a quick death, but she deserved to be rid of him quickly.

So it was that when Lalnable turned up on her doorstep, begging to be freed from his inherited infatuation, she was consumed by a profound sense of relief. Setbacks be damned. Vengeance be damned, the whole bloody _plan_ be damned.

Finally, she could make him love her.

"If you're sure," she said, because the last thing she wanted was him waking up with regrets, and her as a convenient scapegoat.

"I'm sure," he said. His eyes were pale purple. She had no idea what that meant, but the unfamiliarity disturbed her. She slid her fingers to the back of his neck and kissed him.

"I'll be gentle," she promised, because it seemed like the sort of thing she should say.

"It doesn't matter," he said.

She pressed the button on the back of his neck. He locked up. All the whirring systems of him spun down. The organic ones kept ticking along on their own recognizance. He capsized, slowly, landing on the floor with a thud. Five sighed.

"I should've had you come inside first," she muttered. She cracked her back, rolled her shoulders. "Right. Let's get you fixed up."

She grabbed him by the arm and began the arduous process of dragging him into her room.

* * *

 

It took more hours than she would have wanted to get Lalnable's head into acceptable condition. The whole thing was a mess, much more so than she'd anticipated. There were some bits that were completely ambiguous, Lalna or Lalnable or maybe both, and she had to decide case-by-case whether they ought to stay. Even then, those were the least of her worries. With the amount of suppressions and work-arounds and shortcuts and broken code kicking around, it was a wonder he'd been able to function at all.

She excised everything she could find about Rythian. She left Lalnable with a summary of what had happened, just so that he wouldn't be confused. She couldn't guarantee he wouldn't have lingering emotional reactions to certain things, but it was the best she could do. It was what he'd asked for, more or less. There was too much Lalna tangled up in everything Rythian, which he must have known. Five wondered, as she worked, what exactly had prompted Lalnable to come to her. Probably another of his nightmares. She'd have to see about fixing those, too, if they persisted after this. They tended to make him overheat, which physically damaged his circuits. She wasn't sure if he knew about that—he wouldn't have been able to feel it.

Maybe the only reason he'd gotten so distant was the massive amounts of brain damage he'd accumulated. That was a heartening thought.

At last, she finished the work of fixing everything broken in Lalnable's head, and came to the moment when she would write in a genuine love for her—or at least an inescapable infatuation. It didn't matter, really, so long as he never left her. She cracked her knuckles and put her hands on the keyboard.

She sat like that for several minutes.

Lalnable was breathing behind her, lying on his back on the floor. She looked back over her shoulder at him. There wasn't much to see—his eyes were unlit or closed, his chest rose and fell with his breathing. A cord ran from the back of his neck to her terminal. Five chewed her lip. She got up out of her chair and sat down on the floor next to him. With one hand, she smoothed the fringe back off his forehead. His skin was cool.

As her hand wandered over his face, she found a gritty residue on his cheeks. She stuck some of it to her thumb and tasted it, finding it surprisingly salty. It was not, apparently, some kind of hydraulic fluid leak.

She realized, with a sinking sensation, that he had been _crying._

Five got up and went back to the computer. She looked up the data for Lalnable's Emotional Indicator Screens. She'd been aware, in a vague way, that they could change color, but they did it so infrequently that she'd never bothered to look up what the colors meant.

Purple for sadness. White for fear. Lalnable on his knees before her, weeping, pleading. That hadn't been an attempt at manipulation. That had been _genuine._

_It doesn't matter._

A squirming unease began to creep through Five's guts. When Lalnable had told her he couldn't feel anything, she'd always assumed he meant, well, _anything._ His emotions were all performative. What read like pain was simply manipulation. He was a weaponized android built by one of the most evil men of the current era, and everything that made him even remotely human was all inherited nuisance data from Lalna.

The idea that he might have been hurting all this time was enough to make her sick.

She glanced over her shoulder again. He was still just lying there, still hovering in that vegetative state between sleep and death. She ground her teeth. What did it _matter,_ if she changed him a little? It wasn't like he'd be in a position to care. She could secure his undying loyalty and prevent any nasty little accidents from happening to her. She could reinstate his override protocol. He was infinitely programmable, he was _built_ to be programmed, so why shouldn't she? He was hers now. It didn't much matter if it was partnership or ownership. He'd even said himself that he liked being given orders.

_I'm sure Five reprogrammed you the first chance she got, just to make sure you wouldn't get any wrong thoughts in that pretty head of yours._

Five's fists clenched. That smug voice was still ringing in her head, even though she _knew_ everything he'd said had been utter nonsense. She remembered some things about Vee, or at least some things about Nilesy when he was at his most _off._ She'd inherited an intense distrust and disgust for the creature from Nano. It was unlikely that she'd get the chance to actually kill _Vee,_ in particular, but that didn't stop her from fantasizing about it. He would've looked good begging. He would've sounded good screaming.

"First chance she got, my arse," Five muttered. "I'll fucking show _you._ I don't even _need_ to. I don't _even_ need to. Prick."

She returned to Lalnable's side and yanked the cord out of the back of his neck. Still muttering under her breath, she started the process of rebooting him.

* * *

 

Lalnable opened his eyes. His pupils widened and shrank as his visual sensors calibrated. He sat up and looked around. His gaze settled on Five, two red moons blazing out from the fog.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning, Boss," Five said, sitting cross-legged in her computer chair. "Feeling better?"

His head tipped to the side as he thought.

"Much," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. "But dear _God,_ we're behind schedule. How fucked up _was_ I?"

"Immensely," said Five. "You wouldn't _believe."_

He got to his feet. "Well! Hopefully I'll be that much more efficient, and we can still get finished on time. Did anything happen while I was out?"

"Not really," said Five. "Any movement from Lalna and Nano?"

His eyes flickered. "Nothing out of the ordinary. They haven't started their morning flyover yet, but it's still early."

_"Whew,"_ said Five, rolling her eyes. "For a moment there I was worried they might've gotten competent."

"Inconceivable," said Lalnable. He frowned. "Have you slept?"

"Ugh, I'll sleep when I'm dead," she said. There was a fuzzy warmth in her chest. She could almost believe that he actually cared.

"Mm, preferably before that," said Lalnable. "Eating would be important, too, if you haven't."

"I _know_ how to take care of myself, Boss," Five sighed, although she desperately wanted him to keep going. _Have you showered? Changed clothes? Been fucked recently?_

"All right," said Lalnable, raising his hands in surrender. _"Do_ you need me for anything? Only there's a great deal of lost time to make up for, and I'd hate for us to be late to our own party."

A twinge shot through Five's chest. She flapped a hand at him.

"Yes yes, go on, all work and no play," she said. "You're getting duller every minute. But I suppose that's what we've got Rythian for!"

It was both a jab and a test. If she hadn't done her job well enough, it was better to know about it now.

"Hm, I was under the impression we had Rythian to be a sleeper agent," Lalnable said. "Just in case Nano and Lalna suddenly become competent."

"He has ancillary functions," said Five.

"More like ancillary _fuck-_ tions. Heyo!"

Five burst out laughing. A weight lifted from her shoulders. He was still Lalnable, after all. He was still _her_ Lalnable.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Soon there will be time for all the play you want, my dear," he said.

"Promise?" she said, pouting at him. She was only half-joking.

He leaned in and kissed her. "I promise," he said.

There was nothing for it—he was just too good. For the millionth time, she fell for it, even though she _knew_ he didn't really love her.

"Good," she said. She pinched his cheek. "Now get back to work."

"Yes, Boss," he said, grinning.

* * *

 

Five certainly didn't intend to pass out in her chair, but there was only so far caffeine could take her and she'd been awake for almost fifty hours straight. She didn't sleep for terribly long, but still had a moment of panic when she woke up again. There were only two hours left until launch. She leapt out of her chair and ran to the control room, intending to give Lalnable an earful for not waking her up. If he wasn't _in_ the control room, he was going to get a double earful for not working on the important things.

On first canvass, she didn't see him. Rather than waste time looking for him right away, she went to the terminal and checked the status of the missiles. To her surprise, they were all ready to go, except for the last one, which for some reason was unsecured. She checked the trajectories while she was there, just in case. There, she found the reason why Number 81 was unsecured—the trajectory would have it miss Curtibira by several hundred miles. Lalnable had probably opened a connection himself so that he could fix it.

As she stood over the terminal, adjusting the calculations, Lalnable came into the room behind her.

"Ah, there you are," he said. "I was just looking for you. You've found Number 81, then?"

"Yep," said Five. "Just putting the finishing touches on it. Is everything ready?"

"As much as it can be," Lalnable sighed. "I haven't had time to prepare automated defenses for the base like we wanted, and I'm still working on cracking the Americans' launch codes, but for the most part, it's all ready."

Five looked back at him. "All right," she said, "I'm impressed."

"Why _thank_ you," he said, bowing. "I hadn't realized how poorly I was functioning until I got back up to proper capacity. So really, hahah, thank you."

"You should've come to see me sooner," said Five. "Maybe if you had, we wouldn't be behind schedule."

Lalnable tipped his head in allowance. "Next time I start finding bugs, you'll be the first to know."

"Now that you're not overheating every other day, maybe you won't _need_ me."

"Of course I will," said Lalnable. "For routine maintenance, at the very least."

Five turned back to her terminal and scowled at it. There was a measure of silence. Lalnable came up to peek over her shoulder.

"I could fix that," he offered. "If you wanted."

"No, I've _got_ it," she said, annoyed.

"Sorry," he said, stepping back. She heard him fidgeting. The sound made her want to grind her teeth.

Then she heard Lalnable _stop_ fidgeting, very suddenly.

"Five," he said.

"What?" she said, alarmed by the note of warning in his voice.

"A boat's just stopped half a mile from here."

Five's heart leapt into her throat. "What sort of boat?" she demanded. "Is it them?"

"I don't know," said Lalnable. "It's a smuggler's skip, it—" He broke off as his eyes flashed white. "It was rented using one of Strife's accounts last night. It's them."

"How did they find us?" Five cried, panic clawing at her chest. "How the _fuck_ did they find us? What are we—"

He grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Get Rythian dosed and get the pistol," he said. His voice was low and serious, composed. "I'll get Lomadia. We'll hole up in here with her as a hostage. I'll stall them as long as I can."

"Right," Five said. Her voice shook. "Right. Okay. Once—once they get in, you should try and get them to Rythian. Make sure they've got him if they manage to get to us."

"Good plan," said Lalnable. He kissed her forehead. "It's going to be all right. We've got this."

"Yeah," said Five. "Yeah, we got this. We got this."

"Go," he said, letting go of her. "I'll meet you in the—"

He broke off, snapping upright. Five shrieked and leapt back. His eyes flickered wildly. The MALaRs primed with a vicious whine.

"Boss?" Five cried, scrambling away. _"Boss?"_

"No," he said. "No _ooo_ o—"

One arm jerked up. He caught himself by the wrist, staggered. The MALaR fired with a _pop_ and molten metal burst from the wall. A wild, staticky snarl tore from his throat. Five pressed herself into the corner.

"What's happening?" she said. "Boss, what's happening, what do I do?"

" ~~Run~~ ," he gasped. His arm jerked again to aim at her. _"_ _No!_ _"_

He staggered to one side and slammed into the wall. His flesh was burning. He let out another flanging scream. There was another _pop._ Molten droplets freckled Five's shoulder. Blood and sparks burst from Lalnable's arm.

Five leapt to her feet and ran to the nearest door. She heaved at the wheel, but it wouldn't budge. There was a ripping noise, a sizzling of sparks.

_"Szstop it!"_ Lalnable cried, and it was a plea, it was begging.

Thundering footsteps, unsteady and uneven. Five leapt away from the door moments before Lalnable crashed into it. She plastered herself to the wall. There was a scuffle, a pattering of fluid on metal, a metallic _crack,_ a fleshy tearing noise. He staggered away, trailing one arm limp behind him. He fell to one knee, gasping. Five started for him on instinct alone.

"Boss—"

_"Stay_ ~~_back!_ ~~ _"_

"What do I do? Boss, what do we _do?"_

He looked up at her. His eyes were flickering wildly, blood pouring from his wrists.

"I'm szsorry, Five," he said. "I ~~love~~ y-ou."

The whine of the MALaRs rose sharply. Five threw up both hands. There was a deafening _BANG_ and a flash so bright she could see it through her eyelids. She screamed. There was a _thud_ that made the floor shiver.

The smell of burned flesh filled the room. There was a crackling, as of sparks, as of broken glass. Five struggled to catch her breath.

She wasn't dead. Against all the odds, she wasn't dead. She let out a breathless laugh.

"Missed me!" she sang.

Hot metal _plinked_ and _clinged._ Fluid trickled. It was quiet. It was too quiet. She raised her eyes, peeking out from behind her upraised arms. Lalnable was lying on the floor, a white-and-red heap. There was a _lot_ of red. He wasn't moving.

"Boss?" Five said.

He didn't answer. Five staggered to him, unbalanced and disoriented. She dropped to her knees. The cloying stench of burned flesh was overpowering here, mingling with burned plastic, hot metal, hydraulic fluid, blood. He wasn't moving. His body was so hot that she flinched from it on instinct. Smoke was snaking out of his chest, out of the gaping hole where his chest had been. The whirr and click of him was gone. The breath was gone. She put her hands on either side of his neck, even though it burned her hands. The pulse was gone.

"Lalnable?" she whispered.

Unheeded, tears slid from her eyes. He wasn't moving. The light of his eyes had gone out. The heat of the explosion had turned parts of his chassis cherry-red, but that, too, was fading. The white lantern in the center of his chest, the soft-glowing heart and soul of him, that was dark, too. Broken glass glittered amongst the blood and ash.

A sob escaped her lips, and the dam burst. She threw herself on his corpse, weeping and screaming. She beat her fists against his lifeless chest. Her tears fizzed on the charred ruins of his lab coat. She choked on the smoke pouring from his body. Blood soaked into her trousers, her shirt, her skin.

She took his face in shaking hands and pulled herself up to it. With numb lips, she kissed him. With aching fingers, she combed the fringe off his forehead. She buried her face in his neck and held him, for all the good it would do her now. For all the good it would do _him_ now. She might as well just wait for Nano and Lalna to catch up with her, might as well just wait here to die. What else was left to do? What was the point, now? She'd lost him. Despite everything, despite all her worrying and wheedling and begging and conniving, she'd lost him.

She'd lost.

Slowly, Five became aware of a low hum. For an instant, her heart leapt in impossible hope—but the sound wasn't coming from Lalnable. Slowly, she sat up. Slowly, she turned her head.

The terminal was behind her, booted up and ready to go. Beyond it, the missiles sat keen on their launchpads. Five got to her feet, blood-soaked, tear-stained, defeated, alone.

As though the world turned only by her stride, she took a step forward.

_No._


	56. Chapter 55

"What just happened?" Nano demanded.

"I don't know, everything just went dark!" Lalna said. Their eyes were bright white with terror.

"Is he dead? Is _she_ dead?"

"I don't know, I don't ~~know~~!"

"All right, okay, calm down," Nano said, holding out her hands to Lalna. They took them. Their body was unnaturally hot, perhaps dangerously so. "Tell me what happened. Go slowly."

"I got in," Lalna said. "But he fought. I couldn't keep control of everything at once. He—he was pulling bits out. I fired the MALaRs twice. I don't know if they hit anything. I think—I think he might've blown his power core. I think he might be dead."

"What about Five?" Nano insisted. The others looked on with wide eyes and gaunt faces. Nilesy was holding Trell's hand. "Lalna, do we need to go down there?"

"You—yes, I think you do, I think you should," Lalna said. "I don't know if she's alive or not, you should go."

"Okay," Nano said. "Panda, get us moving!"

"Gotcha," said Panda, and zipped up to the wheelhouse. Nano turned her attention back to Lalna.

"Are you hurt?" she said.

"I'm—I'm undamaged," they said. Purple was creeping into their eyes. Their voice was edged with static.

"Are you _okay?_ _"_

Lalna hesitated.

"He was—"

The boat lurched to one side. Nano caught herself on Lalna.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

Panda arrived in a blur, cannoning into Nano and grappling onto her.

"The bay's open, she opened the bay, they're about to fire, what do we do, _whatdowedo—"_

What began as a sputter grew to a deafening roar. The whole world trembled. Nano clapped her hands over her ears. It was so loud she couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. Bright white light washed over the boat as missile after missile streaked into the sky. A huge column of smoke grew in their wake, a branching tree that held up the sky. Nano flung herself into the air and Lalna caught her by the arm. They said something. She tried to break free. They wouldn't let go.

It took nearly a minute for all the missiles to launch. In the ringing silence that followed, Nano's own breath was thunderous in her ears. She rounded on Trell.

"Go back," she said. Her voice was strange and muffled. "Trell, go back, now!"

He stood still, waxen, wide-eyed. He said something. She couldn't hear him, but she could read his lips.

_I fucked up._

Nilesy grabbed Panda by the shoulders and shook him from a stunned reverie.

"She's going to kill Lom and Rythian!" he cried. _"Go!"_

He threw out an arm and shoved Panda with the other. Panda leapt over the railing and landed on a swath of flattened sea. He vanished in a spray of white water. Nano tried again to break from Lalna's grip. They wouldn't let go.

"It's too late," they said.

"I've got to _try—"_

"There's nothing you can do," they insisted. "I've broadcast a warning and I'm trying to reinstate the missile defense systems. Go help Panda. I've got this."

"Trell!" she snapped, unwilling. "What's going on? Why haven't you gone back?"

"I can't," he said. There were slow tears crawling down his face. "I can't, it's not working—"

"Nano, come and help Panda," Nilesy said. "Trell, stay with Lalna."

He, too, vaulted the railing. The ocean bounded up to catch him, then whisked him away towards the base. With a snarl of fury, Nano wrenched her arm from Lalna's grasp and flew after him. Together, the two of them sped to the gaping missile bay, where waves were sloshing over the side and plummeting two hundred feet to the floor below. Nano caught Nilesy under the arms and carried him down to the access door, which was hanging off its hinges. She darted through ahead of him and pulled to a stop.

Lalnable was lying on the floor, a giant, smoking, burnt-out hole in his chest. His eyes had exploded, and so had his power core. The MALaRs had been torn out of his wrists. Blood and broken glass littered the floor. The stench was overpowering.

"Jesus Christ," Nilesy whispered, as he entered behind her. "Is he—"

"Very, extremely dead," said Nano.

"This might be a stupid question," Nilesy began.

"Then ask it later," said Nano. She jogged off. She'd search every inch of the base to find Lomadia if she had to.

She'd just gotten to the far door when Panda zipped in and nearly ran her over.

 _"Shit!"_ he cried, catching himself on the doorway. "Hey! Okay. It's okay, we're good, everything's good. I got Five. _Annnnnnd_ this."

He held out a black pistol. The grip was scarred with acid damage. The safety was off. Nano took it from Panda hurriedly and flicked the safety back on.

"Fuck's sake," said Nano. "Where is she? Have you found Lom and Rythian?"

"Yeah yeah. I was gonna wait for backup to get them. Niles, can you handle Rythian on your own?"

"I would . . . prefer not to?" said Nilesy. "It'll probably help to have Lom with us anyway."

"Right," said Panda. "Come on then."

He started back up the corridor, and Nano and Nilesy followed.

"Where's Five?" Nano asked.

"Tied to a pipe," said Panda. "With zipties, don't worry."

"Was the pipe made of _metal?"_ Nano asked.

Panda's eyes got very big.

"Uhhhhh be back in _just_ a second!" he squeaked, and zipped off.

 _"Where's—_ Lomadia," Nano tried to call after him. "Damn it."

"He won't be long," said Nilesy.

"And in the _mean time,_ we've got to just sit here doing nothing!"

"Nano," Nilesy said. "You can turn off Hazard Mode now. Bombs are away, the disaster's already happened."

"Like hell. I'm not calming down for a fucking _year."_

There was a rapid clanking, and Panda zipped around the corner and pulled up in front of Nano again.

"We're good," he said. "We're good, I fixed it."

"How?" Nano demanded.

"I found this big plastic box and I put her in it," said Panda. "Plus zipties. Like, forty zipties."

"Fine," said Nano. "Lom?"

"Right this way!"

They followed him through four or five corridors before coming to a pair of cells, barred off from the rest of the corridor. One of them was sparse and empty, but the other was filled with colorful, soft blankets—and Lomadia.

Nano foisted the gun onto Nilesy and ran to her. She stuck her hands through the bars and Lomadia took them. She was standing and she was smiling and she had both eyes and she was _alive._

"Lom," was all Nano could manage.

"I knew you'd come," said Lomadia.

"I'm—I'm going to get this open, I—let me just—"

"Do the thing," said Lomadia. She leaned down and kissed Nano through the bars. Nano fumbled her way to the lock and burned through it in record time. Lomadia flung the bars aside and Nano leapt into her arms. The two of them overbalanced and fell hard onto the floor.

"Oh God!" Nano cried. "Oh God, I'm sorry, are you all right? Are you—"

"Yeah, yeah," Lomadia assured her. Her nose was running, her eyes bloodshot. "I just—I don't balance as well anymore, it's okay, I'm okay—"

Nano kissed her again, and Lomadia wrapped her arms around her. Tears streamed down Nano's face. She held Lomadia like she'd never let go.

"I love you," Nano whispered. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you too," said Lomadia. "I love you too, wife."

"God," said Nano, and buried her face in Lomadia's shoulder, shaking like a leaf. Lomadia kissed her hair and rubbed her shoulder with her thumb.

"We've got to go get Rythian," said Lomadia.

"Yeah," said Nano. "Right. Yeah. Let's—let's do that."

By a concerted effort, they both managed to get up. Nano gripped Lomadia's hand, and Lomadia gripped back just as tight. She waved to Nilesy.

"Hi," she said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm—I'm good," said Nilesy, his voice strangled. "Are you—no, that's a stupid question, I don't—"

"I'm all right," said Lomadia. She picked her way out of the cell, bringing Nano with her.

He huffed out a laugh. There were tears in his eyes. "Of course you are," he said.

"Yeah," said Lomadia, smiling. "I'm really good at it."

She turned to Panda. Before she said anything, he darted over and hugged her.

"For good measure," he said.

She patted his back and kissed the top of his head.

"The measure's pretty good," she said. "Let's go."

The four of them set out from there with Panda in the lead, heading for Rythian's cell. Lomadia's balance was unsteady, and she took small, careful steps with her eyes on her feet. Nano slipped an arm around her waist and Lomadia put her hand on Nano's shoulder. It seemed to help.

Nano got the gun back from Nilesy, just in case.

They went down and down, into the very bowels of the base, before coming upon a small antechamber with a single door, just like Trell had described. It had a mail slot in it that looked welded on. Panda sidled up to the door and knocked.

"Rythian?" he called. "It's me again. I've got Nano and Lom and Nilesy with me, too. We're going to open the door. All right?"

"All right," Rythian said from inside. His voice was muffled, but he didn't sound like he was in pain or drugged.

"All right," said Panda. He heaved on the wheel and swung the door open.

Rythian was standing all the way at the back of the cell, pressed to the wall. He'd aged years. There were streaks of gray at his temples, crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. There was a hardness to him that Nano had only seen in flashes before, but as the door swung open, it dissolved. His eyes widened. He straightened up. He blinked.

"It's—actually you," he said. "You're actually—it's really—"

"Yeah," said Panda.

Rythian darted forward, then stopped abruptly. He swallowed, straightened his shirt, and lifted his chin. The rest of his exit from the cell was calm and composed.

"Where are—Five and Lalnable?" he asked.

"Five's locked in a plastic box," said Panda. "Lalnable's dead."

"Show me," Rythian said immediately. Panda shrank back from him.

"Okay," he said. "Okay. Um. Who—first?"

"Whoever's closest."

Nano glanced at Lomadia. She was nodding with grim approval. Her hand was tight on Nano's shoulder.

"That's most likely Five," said Nilesy. "We've come a ways since Lalnable."

"Fine," said Rythian. He started for the door. The hardness was back, pinned into him at every point of articulation.

"Okay," Panda said again, scurrying along after him. "D'you know where you're going, or. . . ?"

"Yes," said Rythian.

Nano glanced at Nilesy and raised an eyebrow. Nilesy saw her looking and gave a nod. He followed after Rythian and Panda, his hands tense at his sides. Nano followed him, still helping Lomadia to stay balanced.

"She's back in my old room, isn't she?" said Lomadia. "The one with the big box?"

"Yep," said Panda. "That'd explain the scratches, I guess."

"Good," said Lomadia. "We should just leave her in there forever."

"That or just fucking kill her," said Panda.

Nano's hand tightened on the gun.

* * *

 

"Oo, it's the whole Freak Parade," Five spat, as the group of them filed in. Panda really hadn't been kidding about the zipties. She'd managed to get herself upright, but was leaned up against the wall, bound hand and foot (and arm and leg). She was covered in blood. Rythian froze up the moment she spoke, and Lomadia's hand tightened painfully on Nano's shoulder.

"Jesus Christ, don't you ever shut up?" said Panda.

"It doesn't matter now, sweetheart, I already won," said Five.

Nano extracted herself from Lomadia's grip. She crossed to the tank, so hot with fury it was making her sweat. She couldn't see straight. The gun was warm in her hand.

"Don't use that word," she growled.

"What, _sweetheart?"_ Five said, raising an eyebrow. "But it's such a _nice_ little pet name!"

The giggle that followed made Nano's teeth ache.

"No," said Nano. "I meant _won."_

One of Five's eyes narrowed. "Yeah? Why not? I have."

"You launched your missiles," said Nano. "But your partner's dead, your virus didn't go off, and we got a warning out. You lose. Game fucking over."

"How d'you know about that?" Five demanded. There was a note of fear in her voice. She recovered quickly. "No, never mind, it doesn't matter. Here's another word you might like: _override."_

Nano whipped around, flooded with adrenaline. The gun was heavy in her hand. Her knees bent, Power rushed to her legs and hands.

She hesitated.

Rythian was standing with his head tilted, like there was water in his ear. His eyes were closed. His hands clenched to fists and his sides, then loosened. He cracked his neck. He let out a slow breath.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up at Five.

"Sorry," he said, his lip curling. "I think it only worked when _he_ did it."

"That's not what you said last night," Five spat, but her voice was shaking.

"Shut up, you foul, _disgusting_ little creature," Nano snapped, rounding on her.

"Ooh, down to insults already," Five said. "Talk all you want, sweetheart, it's all you've got."

"Wrong," said Nano.

She yanked the nearest bolt out of the side of the tank, and then the ones along the top and bottom. She swung the wall open. She flicked off the safety on the gun and pointed it at Five's head.

"I've also got your gun," she said.

"Go on," Five sneered. "Shoot me, then!"

Nano stared her down, finger on the trigger. Her heartbeat was slow and steady. Her hand did not shake. Five stared back, defiant and hateful. Her eyes were bloodshot. She'd been crying.

"No," Nano said, pointing the gun at the ceiling.

Five cackled, throwing her head back and kicking her feet.

 _"God,_ you're a piece of work!" she crowed. "Little miss goody-two-shoes, can't even shoot the big bad who destroyed the fucking world!"

"Because," Nano said slowly, "you're not my dragon to kill." She turned to Lomadia, calm, composed. "Lom?"

"What?" said Lomadia.

"Would you like to kill this woman?" Nano asked.

 _"What?"_ Five cried.

"Holy shit," Panda whispered.

Lomadia looked at Five, turning her head this way and that, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"No," she said at last. "I don't think so. I don't think it would fix anything, or make me feel any better. I think mostly I just feel sorry for her. She's like a little kid."

"Oh, fuck you," said Five, rolling her eyes.

Nano took a deep breath. She looked past Lomadia.

"Rythian?" she said.

He approached slowly, not as though he was frightened but as though he was deliberating. Nano moved out of his way, never taking her eyes off him. He came to stand just a few feet from Five, looking down on her with his shoulders straight and his head held high.

"No," he said quietly.

"Aww, taken a liking to me, have you?" Five asked, her lip curling.

"Shut _up,"_ Panda snapped, his hand clenched on the knife in his belt.

Rythian's only reaction was to crouch down and look Five right in the eyes.

"I want her to live," he said, his voice dark and full of thunder. "I want her to _suffer._ I want her sent to YogLabs, and have every single god damn experiment they can _think_ of run on her. I want her humiliated, and tortured, and _alone._ For the rest of her miserable life."

"Oh, we all know how much you want me, sweetheart," Five said.

Rythian blinked, once, slowly. His face arranged itself into something that might have been a smile.

"If you ever touch me again," he murmured, "I will rip you open and pull your intestines out with my bare hands."

"Still haven't gotten enough of being inside me?" Five said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"All right, _that's_ it!" Panda cried, going for her. Nilesy caught him before he got a step.

Rythian considered Five for a moment, and then spat in her face.

"Rot in hell, you _bitch,"_ he said. He got to his feet and stalked away, trailing sparks behind him.

Five turned her eyes to Nano and smiled.

"He knows I like it when he talks dirty to—"

There was a _zwipp_ and a _crack,_ and Five slumped to the floor, unconscious.

"Shut the _fuck up,"_ Panda said, standing over her with his fists clenched.

"Nilesy, please take this from me," Nano said vaguely, holding out the gun. Nilesy plucked it from her hand. "I think we'd better arrange alternate transportation for Five. If we're stuck on a plane with her for fourteen hours, she's not going to survive."

"Maybe she shouldn't," said Panda.

"If you want to kill her, then kill her," Nano sighed, turning away. "I'm going _home."_

* * *

 

Over the next few hours, things settled out surprisingly well.

Lalna brought the boat to the base and informed them all that, while most of the missiles had made it to their destinations, the damage was at least under control. News was sketchy, but the reports that trickled in did not paint pictures of frenzied mobs and rampant mutagenesis. In at least ten cities, large contingents of Powered people had taken in upon themselves to attempt to redirect or preemptively destroy the incoming missiles. Because of Lalna's warning, most people had been able to get indoors before the airbursts went off; although they were trapped inside for now, they were at least alive.

Trell had locked himself in the boat's cabin and refused to come out. Lalna advised that he be left alone.

While Lalna and Nilesy searched the base for anything useful, Nano and Panda took Lomadia and Rythian up onto the boat. All of them settled down on the deck, just the blazing sun and the crystal sea and the dissipating contrails around them. Rythian put his back to the wheelhouse and pulled his knees up to his chest. He'd been coughing intermittently ever since they'd left the base, and the coughs were starting to get uncomfortably wet. Nano and Lomadia settled in near him, although not too near. Panda went back to the cargo hold and returned a couple of minutes later with Rythian's mask.

"Hey," he said, sitting down near Rythian. He held out the mask. "Brought this for you. From home."

Rythian stared at it, then looked up at Panda. He started shaking. He swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice was choked.

"Put—could you just . . . put it on the. . . ." He gestured to the deck.

"Sure, yeah," said Panda, setting the mask down. Rythian picked it up with trembling hands. It took him three tries to get it on.

He took a slow, deep breath. He tipped his head back, blinking rapidly.

"Thank you," he croaked.

"No problem," said Panda. "I figured you'd be wanting it. Er . . . while we're at it, d'you want somebody to try and, um, get that—that thing? Off of you?"

"What thing?" said Rythian, tensing up.

"The—" Panda gestured to his own neck. Rythian reached up and touched the silver ring as though he'd forgotten it was there.

"I probably could," Nano said. "But probably not without burning you."

"Oh, no," Rythian said darkly, fingers clenching on the metal. "You don't have to worry about that."

Nano swallowed. _Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it._

"Okay," said Nano. "So—d'you want me to?"

"It doesn't matter," said Rythian.

"I really need a yes or no."

He glanced at her. He fidgeted.

"Yes," he whispered. "Please."

"Be right back," Nano said, kissing Lomadia on the cheek. She scooted over to Rythian, who shrank away from her, keeping his eyes averted.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" Nano said.

"No," Rythian said immediately.

"I might accidentally," Nano said. "If that's not okay, we'll figure something else out. I'm going to have to use both hands so I don't get zapped."

Rythian squirmed, pulling at the collar. At last, he pushed it up against the narrowest part of his neck so that it stuck out to one side. He turned his head as far away from Nano as he could.

"Okay," said Nano. "I'm starting."

She reached out and pinched the silver ring with three fingers of each hand. She pushed her Power into her fingertips. The silver sizzled and blackened and smoked. Some of the sludge dripped onto Rythian's shoulder. He twitched, but otherwise didn't react. He was shaking visibly.

"That should do," said Nano, letting go and backing away. Rythian grabbed the part of the ring Nano had been burning and yanked on it. The degraded silver snapped. He hurled the whole thing over the side of the boat, then sat back, stroking his neck with gentle fingers.

Neither his hand nor his neck were burned, even though his skin had come into direct contact with Nano's acidic slime.

_Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it._

Nano went back to Lomadia and nestled into her arms.

"Thank you," Rythian murmured.

"Anytime," said Nano.

For a long time, none of them said anything. It was Lomadia who breached the silence.

"Rythian?" she said.

He looked over at her. "Yes?" he said.

"I never got to thank you," Lomadia said. "For what you did. So—"

"I wish I hadn't," he spat, suddenly going sharp again. Lomadia recoiled.

 _"Ooooookay,_ let's just take a step back," Panda said, raising a pacifying hand.

"Don't _fucking touch me!"_ Rythian snarled, leaping to his feet. He clenched his fists and bowed his head, letting out a slow breath. "Please."

"Gotcha, yeah, no touching," said Panda, scooting backwards across the deck.

"Lom, why don't we—why don't we give Rythian some space," Nano said, squeezing Lomadia's hand.

"Okay," said Lomadia, sounding hurt and befuddled.

Nano helped her up, and together the two of them went around to the shaded side of the boat and settled back down. Nano tried to think of what to say. She couldn't come up with anything, so she just squeezed Lomadia's hand and leaned against her.

"He tried to rescue me," Lomadia said eventually, her voice so soft Nano could barely hear it. "That's what I was trying to thank him for. He tried to rescue me and then he saved me when Lalnable was going to kill me."

"I don't—I mean, he probably wasn't thinking of that," said Nano, uncomfortable.

"I never saw him except that one time," said Lomadia. "There wasn't anything else, really."

Nano fidgeted.

"Rythian's . . . I think Rythian's in a lot of pain, still," said Nano. "And I think he's going to be in a lot of pain for a long time, and I think it's going to make him hard to be around."

"Why?" said Lomadia.

"Because—" she began, and shrugged helplessly. "Because that's how people get when they've been hurt too much."

Lomadia considered this. "Am I going to get like that?"

"You might," Nano said. "But if you do, I promise I won't leave. No matter how hard it gets. I'll stay with you."

There was another lull.

"Nano?"

"Yes, sw—love?"

"When d'you think I'm going to get my wings back?"

Nano bit her lips and took a deep breath.

"I'll ask Lalna about it, when they get back," she said carefully. "We'll see what can be done."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "I mean, I know it's going take a while. I just want to know when we can start."

"As . . . soon as possible," said Nano.

"Okay," said Lomadia. "That's good. When d'you think that'll be? When we get back to Bristol?"

"I'm—" Nano began, and cleared her throat, trying to unstick the words. "Lom, I'm not sure it's going to be possible. To get your wings back. We'll try, but I don't know if it's going to work."

"Oh," said Lomadia.

"I'm sorry, love."

"Thanks, I guess," said Lomadia. She reached up over her own shoulder and touched her back. "It's just. . . ."

"What?"

She shrugged, turning her face away. "It's stupid," she said.

"It's not," said Nano, with absolute certainty.

Lomadia rocked for a little while, her talons opening and closing.

"Nilesy used to call me his angel," said Lomadia. "He used to say I was perfect. He's not going to say that anymore, ever again, if I don't get my wings back. And I—I wanted him to. Because I'm sort of still in love with him, even though I married you."

"Lom," Nano said, aching.

"I know I wasn't meant to, and I really hoped it would go away because he doesn't love me anymore, but—"

"Yes he does," said Nano.

Lomadia looked at her. Her nose was running again. Nano reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Lomadia's ear.

"Yes, he does," she said again. "He told me so. And as soon as he's up for it, and you're up for it, you and me are going to sit down with him and have a good long talk about . . . about communication. For fuck's sake."

A damp smile turned up the corners of Lomadia's mouth. She pulled Nano into a hug.

"I missed you," she said.


	57. Chapter 56

It took about four hours to pick through the undersea base, and Nilesy spent the whole time looking over his shoulder. It was more than just the oppressive weight of the ocean all around him, although that certainly had something to do with it. The place _reeked_ of pain. He could hear it ringing off the walls, see it dripping down the machines like condensation. He kept having to go back and check on Lalnable's corpse, just to make sure it was still there.

He didn't check on Five, although they had been forced to untie her, lest she die from kidney failure. Lalna had assured him it would happen if they kept her immobilized for too long. Lalna had taken care of getting the zipties off of her and was monitoring her through the base's cameras. There had been concerns about her flying out through the hole in the top, but apparently that Power hadn't been inherited.

Nilesy found the projector room, the giant screen and the fridges and the wooden chair with the straps, the IV stands and needles. The air was so thick with agony he couldn't breathe.

 _Imagine how_ _good_ _he must've looked,_ Vee purred in his ear. _Strapped down and screaming, drugged_ _up to the eyes_ _._ _I'll bet they fucked him_ _senseless,_ _hahah. How could you resist?_

Liam rose up like a hurricane, gray-black and _seething._ He didn't speak, but he was thunderous. The ocean pressed down all around Nilesy, six trillions tons of water all frigid with ready violence.

Vee didn't say anything else.

Nilesy poked around until he found the projector itself. He played the file pre-loaded onto it, watched the images flash across the screen.

Nano's face. Lalna's face. Panda, Lomadia, Zoey, Fiona, Nilesy. Images of them at their most vicious, teeth bared and eyes bright with rage. Blood and gore. Flashes of Rythian's own mutilated body. Screeches of static and feedback blasted through the room's speakers, cut through with a single word in Lalnable's voice.

_Override._

Nilesy made it less than a minute before he had to shut the production off. He walked away shaking, sat down in a corner and pulled his hair until the horror settled. He still couldn't breathe. His teeth were still sharp in his mouth. He could taste blood.

He pushed it down and moved on. He'd deal with it later.

There were a few things of use in the base, but not many. The MOTHER production line was one of them, all apparently automated but all currently nonfunctional. There were a lot of jars in incubators, filled with a slurry of fluid and ground-up flesh. Tubing ran from the jars to a bunch of other machines, where yellow fluid came out and was mixed with the tar-black mutagen cocktail.

"Sib?" Nilesy said to the air. "Are you listening?"

For a moment, there was no response. Then some hidden speaker popped with static and Lalna spoke.

 _"Yep, I hear you,"_ they said. _"What's up?"_

"I've found out how they were making more of the serum."

_"Really? How?"_

"By cutting chunks off Lalnable, I think," said Nilesy.

 _"Huh,"_ said Lalna. _"I guess that could work. He must've used a shitload of it on himself to get his meat-suit working. Maybe it stuck."_

"Might've done," said Nilesy. "D'you think we ought to take this with us? Revolutionize modern medicine and all that?"

 _"Uhhh yeah, sure, we can find some space for it,"_ said Lalna. _"Nilesy?"_

"Yeah?"

_"Nano told you what the serum's made of, right?"_

"Oh yes," said Nilesy. "Disgusting, yet somehow satisfying."

_"Even the bit where all of you have had bits of Xephos injected into you at various times?"_

"Ah, well, I'm not handling that at the moment," said Nilesy. He rubbed his eyebrow, trying to press down the headache that was springing up. "Let's not talk about that bit."

 _"_ _Okay,"_ said Lalna. _"_ _D'you think Xephos would've been_ _upset_ _? Knowing that h_ _e was_ _the_ _catalyst that made_ _like fifty million people_ _Powered_ _?"_

Nilesy raised his eyebrows. He folded his arms and leaned back.

"D'you know," he said slowly. "I think he would've been fucking _livid_ _."_

 _"Nice,"_ said Lalna.

There was a momentary lull.

"Is it . . . is it really fifty _million?"_ said Nilesy.

 _"Judging by initial estimates, that's an upper bound,"_ said Lalna. _"It probably won't be that bad in the end."_

"That's still a—a fucking lot of people," said Nilesy. "That's a mind-boggling lot of people."

 _"Oh yeah,"_ said Lalna. _"Things are going to get pretty crazy, for sure."_

"But it's not the end of the world?" Nilesy said, hopeful.

 _"Not right now,"_ said Lalna. _"Maybe the world as we knew it, but it seems to still be functioning. It's just suddenly really different."_

"Yeah," said Nilesy. "No kidding. So, how're we getting all of this out of here, anyway?"

 _"Ah, yeah, that's a good question,"_ said Lalna. _"I've had a few ideas, but nothing great yet. Most air traffic's been completely grounded, so we might all be stuck here for a while. I'm poking about in some old files to see if I can work out what Lalnable and Five did with Strife's jet,_ _since that'd be ideal for taking everything back_ _."_

"Nano's probably going to push pretty hard for taking Rythian and Lomadia home as soon as possible," said Nilesy. "Fortunately, we've got another jet to hand."

 _"That's true,"_ said Lalna. _"That's probably for the best. Then we don't have to worry about Five as much."_

"As much," said Nilesy. "Well, listen, I've seen about all I care to see of this place. Have you got everything you need for now?"

 _"Yeah, I could head back for the day,"_ said Lalna. _"Meet you at the exit?"_

"Yes please," said Nilesy.

* * *

 

Nilesy got to the antechamber below the periscoping entry tunnel before Lalna, which was his first hint that something was off. The second was when Lalna arrived carrying a cardboard box, holding it so gently it might have been full of kittens. Their eyes were a pale lavender color.

"What's with the box?" Nilesy asked, gesturing to it as Lalna came into the room.

"Yeah," said Lalna. "About that."

Nilesy raised an eyebrow and folded his arms.

"There's something you should know," said Lalna. "Before we go back up."

"Yeah?" said Nilesy.

Lalna fidgeted. Their eyes darted to one side. They bit their lip.

"You remember how I said I could save Lalnable?"

Nilesy stared at them. "You _didn't,"_ he said.

"I did," said Lalna, tipping the box forward. There were several sleek black plastic boxes inside.

"How?" Nilesy demanded. "He was a burnt-out shell! He fucking exploded!"

"He did," said Lalna. "But he had a backup. Which is probably why he chose to explode."

"The missing drone," Nilesy said.

"Bits of it," Lalna confirmed. "I found it in a secret room, like, he'd hidden the door and everything. It didn't even have a power core, so it wasn't going to be waking up without some serious help, but . . . it was there. _He_ was there. His last backup was less than a week ago."

"And you've put him in there," said Nilesy, pointing.

"External hard drives," said Lalna. "I found a bunch of them lying about. I thought I should tell you. He's your brother, too, after all."

 _Liam's brother,_ Nilesy did not say, although he very much wanted to. If Lalna was his sibling, then he had to accept that Lalnable was, too. He let out a slow breath.

"What're you going to tell Rythian?" he asked.

Lalna's eyes dimmed, like candles running out of wick. They shrugged.

"I wasn't planning on telling Rythian," they mumbled.

"Lalna," said Nilesy. "If you don't, I will."

"Nothing's ever going to come of it," said Lalna. "I'm not going to wake him up. I destroyed the drone, too, this is the only copy left."

"That's all fair and good," said Nilesy. "But if you don't tell Rythian, _I will."_

"Why does he even need to know?"

"Maybe he doesn't!" said Nilesy. "Maybe he fucking doesn't, but I don't care, and I'm going to fucking tell him anyway! _I_ think he should know! I think he fucking _deserves_ to know!"

Lalna looked down at the box of hard drives. They tapped their thumbs against the sides.

"Can it wait a bit, though?" they asked.

"I'd fucking advise it," said Nilesy. He took a moment to reign himself in, then added, "And I'd also advise putting that—putting _Lalnable_ somewhere safe before you do."

"Yeah," said Lalna. "I was planning to."

"All right," said Nilesy, resigned. "I'll give you one week after we get home, and then I'm telling him. Fair?"

"Fair," said Lalna. "Thank you. I'd hoped you'd understand."

"I do," said Nilesy. "I wish I didn't, but I do. Now let's get the fuck out of here, this place gives me the creeps."

* * *

 

By sunset, it had become obvious that something was very wrong with Rythian.

He'd gone from his initial state of general quietude with hair-trigger mood swings to a state of frantic distress that mainly involved sweating bullets and scratching off all his skin, with occasional bouts of vomiting and inconsolable weeping.

"It's withdrawal," Trell said flatly, gathered with the rest of them in the wheelhouse because Rythian was occupying the cabin now. "Whatever drugs they had him on."

"Is it, like, _dangerous?"_ Panda asked, picking at his fingernails. "Because he looks _really bad,_ and if he keeps sweating and throwing up like he has been, it's . . . not going to be good."

"I hate to say it, but we might have to ask Five what they had him on," said Nano.

"Nope," said Lalna. "I just found Lalnable's lab notebook. And, er, yeah, it's probably going to be really _really_ bad."

"How bad?" said Nano.

"Ninety milligrams of morphine a day," said Lalna.

"Fucking Christ, how is he not _dead?"_ she cried.

"Gradual dose increases as he built up tolerance," said Lalna. "There were a bunch of other things in there, too. Psilocybin and MDMA, mostly."

"Hallucinogens and ecstasy and opiates, oh my," Nano said, her head in her hands. "What the fuck do we do?"

"Since we're nowhere near a hospital? Start tapering the doses," said Lalna.

"Wait, hang on, he's going into withdrawal and we're just going to— _keep giving him drugs?"_ Panda said, appalled.

"It's that or let him die," said Lalna.

"You've turned your fucking emotions off again, haven't you," Panda accused.

"Yes, because I have to," said Lalna. "There's probably still some of the original mixture in the lab. I can go get it."

"I'll tell you what you're _not_ going to do, you're _not_ going to walk in on him with those drugs and all your emotions off," Trell said. "He'll kill you."

Lalna tipped their head to the side, then nodded. "That's probably accurate," they said. "Somebody else should administer it."

There was a moment of deafening silence. Nilesy considered going back into the ocean and spending the rest of his days underwater.

"I can," said Panda. "I've . . . probably got the most experience with needles. Out of anybody."

"Oh thank God," said Trell, sagging. "If he killed me again, I'm not sure I'd survive."

"Is that still . . . not working?" said Nilesy.

"Haven't tried yet," said Trell, going stony.

"Right," said Nilesy.

"Back in a bit," said Lalna.

* * *

 

Scarcely five minutes after Panda had gone in to administer the drug cocktail, he was coming right back out again, teary-eyed and waxen and trembling.

"I can't," he said to Nilesy, who was loitering outside the cabin. "I can't, I'm sorry, I just—he's just—"

"It's all right," said Nilesy, pushing off the wall. "Sort of suspected he might be."

"I'm sorry," Panda said again. "You shouldn't have to do this, you shouldn't have to deal with this."

"And yet, I will," said Nilesy. After only a momentary hesitation, he put a hand on Panda's shoulder. "None of us should have to deal with this. You've done your bit. I'll take over from here."

"Thank you," Panda said, and sniffled. Nilesy patted his shoulder, then went into the cabin.

The smell was, to put it mildly, gag-worthy. There was the expected stench of vomit and sweat, the sharp tang of ozone. There was also a burning, acrid smell that brought Nano instantly to mind.

Rythian was curled up with his back against one wall, shirt off, knees up to his chest. He watched Nilesy as he entered, petting his own arms, his expression unreadable behind his mask.

"Hallo, you," Nilesy said softly. "All right if I come in?"

"Mm," said Rythian, swaying slightly.

Nilesy picked his way across the cabin and sat on the other cot. Rythian followed the movement with a dazed sort of detachment.

"Doing all right?" Nilesy asked.

Rythian shook his head. He rubbed at his eye clumsily. Something about his appearance struck Nilesy as _off,_ but he put it down to the vast multitude of healed injuries now visible on his body, the premature gray in his hair, the lines at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry," said Nilesy. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," said Rythian. "No, no, you don't—don't . . . you don't need to help. 'M fine. I'm—no. No, it's just—hah. It's just, it's not . . . it's not, quite, enough? It's just not quite enough."

"I know," said Nilesy.

"Could—could there be—I don't want to ask for—for . . . could—please just make this easy," Rythian said, breaking out into abject begging halfway through. "Please, just, make this easy, don't make me do this."

"It'll be very easy, Rythian," said Nilesy, sick to his stomach. "I'm going to stay over here and you're going to stay over there, and you haven't got to do anything at all, and nobody's going to hurt you."

"Did I—do something?" Rythian asked, sounding terribly pitiful. "I—I probably . . . I deserve this. Don't I? I did something, and I deserve this now."

"No, you don't," said Nilesy. If he'd had Five to hand, he would've killed her on the spot. "You don't deserve any of this. We're just trying to help you get better."

Rythian's whole demeanor turned on a dime. His shoulders relaxed, and the piteous roundness of his eyes narrowed. He scratched his arm idly, digging in his fingernails until blood came out.

"Good," he said, and his voice was remarkably sober. "Good. You pass."

"Was that a test?" said Nilesy. Tension was ratcheting up his spine. He didn't want to be alone in here, with somebody who was less than sober, who was angry and unpredictable and giving out _tests. . . ._

He pushed it down. He'd deal with it later.

"Oh yes," said Rythian. He looked over at his hand as though just now realizing what it was doing. He clicked his teeth and wiped the blood off his hand on his discarded shirt, then picked the shirt up and wiped off his arm, too.

Underneath the blood, no wounds lingered. Nilesy went cold all over. That's what had seemed _off_ about Rythian—he'd been scratching himself to bits for hours, but there were no open wounds anywhere on him.

That, and the acid smell. That was really starting to worry him.

"D'you mind telling me what it was a test _for?"_ Nilesy asked.

"To see if you could be trusted," said Rythian, examining the bloodied shirt with a detached curiosity. "To see if I had to keep. . . ."

He trailed off. The muscles of his face twitched. His toes curled.

"Well," said Nilesy. "Good to know I passed."

"Yes," said Rythian. "Yes, that's good. Panda didn't. He's _wanty._ He's always been _wanty._ I had to get rid of him."

"I think you upset him rather a lot," said Nilesy.

"Good," said Rythian. "Maybe he won't come back. With his—his touchy hands. He has _touchy_ hands, grabby touchy hands. I hate them. He moves too fast."

"I'll take that to mean I shouldn't touch you."

"No," said Rythian. "Nobody should ever touch me, ever again."

"Understood," said Nilesy. "I've been there."

 _"Hah!_ Hah. No you haven't," Rythian said, vicious. "I got where you got to once, but this is _worse._ This is _worse._ You can't imagine. Not in your worst fucking nightmares."

"You're right," Nilesy said softly. "I can't."

Rythian quieted suddenly. He reached up and touched his mask, as though to make sure it was still there.

"I don't remember most of it," he said. "It's all—blurry. I wish that was a good thing. But I'd rather remember. I'd rather know. I don't know what was real or what happened when or with who. It's like—a nightmare. It's like a nightmare, and the longer I wait to—to say anything, the more I'll forget, and then I won't be able to make it go away. It never goes away."

"It doesn't," Nilesy agreed. "But it will get better."

"Fuck you, no it won't," Rythian snapped. "Look at me. _Look_ at me. Look at what they did to me! I'm a monster, I'm a _freak,_ I'm—I—"

"You've developed hypermitosis because they used the serum on you so much," said Nilesy. "And unless I'm much mistaken, a much more acidic biochemistry than the last time I saw you."

"Do I?" said Rythian. "Do I, because I don't know. I don't remember."

"I'm sorry," said Nilesy. "We can try and help you figure it out, if you think that'd help. There's probably at least some documentation, on what happened to you. I'm given to understand Lalnable kept a . . . kept records."

"It doesn't matter," said Rythian, and there was a very familiar pain in his voice.

"It does," said Nilesy.

There was no response. Rythian had changed modes again, now swaying where he sat and picking idly at the fibers of the bedclothes. There were tears in his eyes. He sniffled.

"I'm listening," Nilesy said. "If you want to talk."

Rythian continued to not respond. Slowly, his eyebrows pulled together, and his daze took on a more pensive quality. After almost a minute of silence, he finally spoke.

"Her name was Reina," he said, gazing into the middle distance. "She found me in Umeå. Freezing to death under a bridge. I don't . . . exactly remember, how it started. I stayed with her, on her couch. And then in her bed. I couldn't pay much rent, and she didn't mind at first, but. . . ."

Nilesy didn't interrupt, even as Rythian trailed off. He waited, aching. Rythian laughed to himself and tipped his head back against the wall.

"She had a temper," he said, somewhere between fondness and sarcasm. "And eventually she ran out of patience with me. It started with . . . breaking things. I didn't have many things, but most of them got broken. She yelled a lot. It—because of the way I am, it's hard to actually _hit_ me, without getting hurt. But eventually the dishes started getting thrown at me. I got—hah—I got really good at dodging. Then . . . that made it worse. But she let me stay, no matter how angry she got with me. I would have died if she'd kicked me out, so I—so there was nothing she could do to me that was too much. And most of the time it was fine."

He reached up and rubbed his shoulder, faint lines of pain on his face.

"I started selling my voltage around . . . December, or so," he said. "And that helped. For a little while. I was paying rent, but then she had to take care of me, so it was just as hard for her. I—I had a temper, too, and . . . sometimes we fought. She started—she had this wooden broom. And I couldn't hit her back, because it would kill her."

"Jesus Christ," Nilesy muttered, his fists clenching.

"At the time, I didn't think she realized that," Rythian went on. "Now I think she did. At first it was just—bruises. Nothing that would show, but it was winter, so almost nothing showed. And, just, I never went out, except to sell my voltage, so who would even see? I think she knew that, too. She broke a couple of my fingers once. I had to sneak out to the hospital, but even then, they wouldn't give me anything but splints and aspirin. Thought I was just . . . drug-seeking, hah. The irony. That was in February. The day after Valentine's Day she broke the broom on my shoulder. But she didn't stop."

"Oh, God," said Nilesy, aching all the way to the core.

Rythian's hand drifted up to his face, pointing to his cheekbone with shaking fingers.

"So . . . that one's Reina," he said. The hand moved to his shoulder, then his forearm, then his ribs. "And that one's Reina, and _that_ one's Reina, and that one's Reina, too. February, March, twice in April. I—I always paid for the replacement brooms. Because it was my fault they got broken. I ran away in May. While she was at work. I didn't have much, so it wasn't hard. I always thought—four scars, it was stupid. All of that, and only four scars. I felt like. . . ."

"It should've been worse," Nilesy said softly. "It should've left more marks."

Rythian huffed out a breath. "Yes," he said. "So . . . a lot of the other ones are—were me."

That struck through Nilesy's chest like a javelin. He wrapped his arms around himself, cold and uneasy.

"I'm so sorry, Rythian," he said.

"I say _were_ because they're gone now," said Rythian. "All . . . scraped off and regrown. I looked. I checked. Over and over. It's not like I had anything else to do. All gone. Even Reina's. Like it never even happened."

"That's horrible," said Nilesy, completely at a loss for what else to say.

"It's—sort of why I don't date women," Rythian said, shrugging. "Even though—the whole pan-thing. When Zoey—when I got here, and Zoey picked me up, I thought it was going to be the same thing all over again. But it wasn't. Even though I sort of fell in love with her. She never hurt me. Which—I didn't really know what to do with, hah. I don't—didn't understand feeling _safe._ But then I found out she was a lesbian, and then it made a little more sense. So I was safe with her. And then I was mostly safe with Nano, too, so. . . ."

He perked up, his eyes widening. He drew a long breath, as though a revelation had just occurred to him.

"I'm only safe with lesbians," he said.

Despite everything, Nilesy cracked a smile at that.

"I know a few who'd be willing to look out for you," he said. "At least until you get your feet back under you."

Rythian looked at Nilesy for the first time since he'd come in the room.

"Nilesy," he said, and that was it.

Nilesy stayed where he was, as much as he wanted to go to Rythian, offer his shoulder to cry on. He'd said at the outset that he wouldn't come close, that he wouldn't try to touch, and he would rather have died than break that promise. Rythian just sniffled and shivered and petted his own arms.

"Thank you for trusting me with that," Nilesy said carefully.

"I'm sorry," Rythian whispered. "I'm—I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I honestly have no idea what you're apologizing for," Nilesy said. Rythian shook his head.

"Vegas," he said. "For—Vegas. All of it. All of it."

Nilesy let out a slow breath. He folded his hands in his lap.

"I know," said Nilesy. "I still don't understand why it happened, but I appreciate the apology." "It was easier to hurt you than to let you go," said Rythian, mush-mouthed. "And I'll never forgive myself for that."

Nilesy shrugged.

"It was easier to be hurt than to be let go," he said. He took a deep breath. Something small and bright stirred at the bottom of his heart, a single bit of glitter in a snowglobe. "And _I_ forgive you."

Rythian pressed his face into his own knees. His shoulders shook. He sniffled, his fingers digging into his arms.

"Thank you," he said damply.

"Wasn't entirely for your sake," Nilesy said, "but you're welcome."


	58. Chapter 57

Two days after the world ended, Panda came home.

It had taken some finagling, but Nano had managed to secure clearance for Strife's jet to make the trip back to Bristol. Lalna and Nilesy had stayed behind, gathering up everything of use in the base—plus Five—to take back in the other jet, which had been hidden away in a private hangar outside of Kingston. The flight was long, and tedious, and at times incredibly painful.

Rythian had to be drugged every eight hours to stave off withdrawal. Lalna had given detailed instructions on how the doses were to be tapered, and Panda followed them to the letter. It never got any easier. Just giving him the injection was nearly impossible, as he was still violently opposed to being touched.

News continued to develop. The number of confirmed manifestations was stretching towards the ten million mark. Medical personnel were working round the clock in every affected city. In some places there were roadblocks and quarantines, disproportionate militarized response. Price gouging was rampant, although the news mainly focused on the resultant looting. Reports were starting to come in of multiple manifestations—previously Powered people whose Powers suddenly increased in scope or intensity, or who developed new Powers in addition to their pre-existing ones. Many people were deliberately entering the MOTHER-affected areas, despite nearly a hundred deaths worldwide due purely to exposure.

Given the numbers involved, Panda supposed they were actually pretty good odds.

There was a lot going on politically, but Panda found it difficult to focus on that. Whenever policies were actually proposed, or when it became necessary to get up and yell at the people in charge for being idiots, then he'd concern himself with it. Until then, other people could just give him the highlights. He had enough to worry about.

The general gist was: it was fucking chaos, and nobody knew what to do, and everybody was scared out of their minds.

When they landed in Bristol, Zoey and Fiona and Fox were all waiting for them.

The Bristol airport was deserted, almost unrecognizable in its emptiness. There had been a few planes out on the tarmac, most of them freight, but inside it was like a mausoleum.

Nano and Lomadia came out first, with Trell, Panda, and Rythian following. Zoey stepped forward as they exited the jet bridge, smiling and tearful. Rythian gravitated towards her, unsteady and dazed. It had been almost six hours since his last dose, and he looked haggard and exhausted and pained.

"Hey," Zoey said to him, crying already. "Hey, oh, wow. What's—what's cookin', good lookin'?"

Rythian stared at her for a frozen, trembling instant.

 _"Zoey,"_ he said, and tumbled into her arms. She squeezed him while he sobbed into her shoulder, patting him awkwardly on the back.

"Okay," she said. "Okay, mmhm, I've got you. I gotcha. Babe, can you get the car? I don't think he's going to come off anytime soon. No no, it's okay, it's fine! You can stay! You can stay, Rythian, that's fine, I don't mind."

Fiona gave Zoey a thumbs-up and a wink and moved off. Fox edged around Zoey and Rythian with a look of extreme discomfort on xyr face. Xe looked up at Trell and cocked a thumb over xyr shoulder.

"Fucking Christ," xe said. "At least he's alive, right?"

"Good to see you too," said Trell.

"Hi Fox," said Lomadia, waving.

"Hi, holy shit," said Fox. "You—look good. You look good. Glad to see you're back."

"Thanks," said Lomadia. "It's really nice to be home. I'm glad you're okay too."

"Yeah, well, of course I'm all right, I'm me," said Fox. Xe turned to Trell and planted a fist on xyr hip. "And where's my live boyfriend you promised me?"

"I left him at the base," said Trell.

"Lose your own head next," said Fox, shaking xyr head. "Useless. Absolutely useless."

"Excuse you, I saved the world like four times."

"He did," said Panda.

"Honestly," said Nano.

"It's the fifth that was the kicker," said Trell.

"Shut up, it's going fine," said Panda.

Fox folded xyr arms and rolled xyr eyes.

"Oh, _fantastic,"_ xe said. "Now he's going to be even _more_ insufferable."

"I'll kick you," Trell threatened.

"Come over here and do it, then," said Fox.

Trell came over. Xe caught him by the face and kissed him.

"Big damn hero," xe said.

He leaned his forehead on xyrs, eyes squeezed shut.

"I'm going to need _so much fucking therapy,"_ he said. Fox patted his back.

"Yeah, it's gonna be a booming business," xe said.

Panda shared a look with Nano behind their backs and shrugged. Lomadia looked on in silence, benevolent.

"I think we'd better get home," Nano said to her, nudging her with an elbow.

"Yes," said Lomadia. "We should. Like right now. Is Panda coming back with us?"

"I've got my own flat," Panda said. "I guess Rythian'll be . . . staying with Zoey? For a while?"

Zoey gave him a thumbs-up behind Rythian's back. He was still hugging her, although he appeared to be crying less.

"That seems like a good plan," said Nano. "Whenever Lalna and Nilesy get back, they'll probably go back there, too, so. . . ."

"Good reason for Rythian to not be there, yeah," said Panda.

"Yeah," said Nano.

As one, the three of them looked at Rythian. Zoey was patting his back with her prosthetic hand.

"Somebody should tell her about the drugs," said Lomadia.

* * *

 

Panda found out about Lalnable as soon as Lalna and Nilesy got home.

Nilesy pulled him aside while Lalna went to arrange things in their room. He told Panda, in short, factual sentences, what had happened.

"They _what?"_ Panda cried.

"Calm down," Nilesy said.

"I'm not going to fucking calm down, this is fucking _mental!_ What the fuck—why the fuck—holy fuck, what about Rythian?"

"It's a bit complicated," said Nilesy.

"Complicated, bullshit," said Panda. "It's fucked up. Where is he? What've they done with him?"

"I don't know," said Nilesy. "I haven't seen the hard drives since we left."

"Jesus Christ," said Panda. "At _least_ tell me you've got Five squared away."

"Dropped her off at YogLabs earlier today," said Nilesy. "Fortunately there's still _loads_ of room."

"Well at least there's fucking that," said Panda. "What—I mean, what the fuck?"

"Yeah," Nilesy sighed. "I've told Lal they've got to tell Rythian within the week, or I'll do it for them."

"Within the _week?_ Try right fucking now."

"I thought Rythian might like some down time, beforehand."

Panda paused.

"Okay, that's fair," he said. "He's still going to be fucking furious. Or—something."

"Or something," Nilesy confirmed. "I think one or both of us should be there when the conversation happens."

"Well yeah, obviously," said Panda. "God, no, we can't leave Rythian _alone_ with Lal. It'd be PTSD City."

"Accurate, if slightly insensitive," said Nilesy.

"Sorry."

Nilesy waved him off. "It'll probably fall to us to arrange the meeting anyway. I don't guess Rythian'll be particularly open to taking calls from Lalna."

"He's not taking calls from anybody," said Panda. "Did you get told about his sort of . . . situation?"

"Living with Zoey and Fiona? Yeah."

"That's more of a future thing," said Panda. "He's at a rehab clinic in London right now."

"Thank God," said Nilesy. "Is he all right?"

"So far as I know," said Panda, shrugging helplessly. "Like I said. Not taking calls."

Nilesy's eyes narrowed. "Is he not _taking_ calls, or is the clinic not _allowing_ calls?"

"The first one," Panda said. "We checked. Thoroughly."

"Good," said Nilesy. "That's . . . good to know. Do we know how long he's going to be there?"

"About a month, was the last estimate I heard," said Panda.

"I've got no frame of reference for that. I assume that's normal-ish?"

"Ish," said Panda. "As soon as he's done there, he's apparently decided he's going straight on to Callington Road."

 _"Really,"_ said Nilesy.

"Yeah," said Panda. "It came highly recommended."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Before either could, Lalna emerged from their room and poked their head into the corridor.

"Hi," they said. "What's up?"

"Two words," said Panda. "Fucking _seriously?"_

* * *

 

The meeting with Rythian happened a few days after that, and unfortunately Nilesy couldn't be present. He was sorting through some things of his own, and simply didn't have the capacity to play mediator. For one thing, his teeth had started falling out, although fortunately the regular human ones were growing back in to replace them. Panda couldn't bring himself to ask Lomadia to come—she knew already, and hadn't taken it very well. Nano was so busy working through the aftermath of the MOTHER attacks and the YogLabs prison break that she was completely unavailable to anyone.

Lalna and Panda went to London together, therefore, and met Rythian at the rehab clinic. It was a sterile, bland place that looked more like a high school than a mental health facility. They were allowed to sit with him alone, ostensibly unsupervised, in an open conference room. Rythian sat as far away from Lalna as humanly possible, and as close to the door as he could.

He looked a lot worse. He was more worn, more twitchy, more keyed-up. The circles under his eyes were darker, the gray in his hair lighter. As Panda and Lalna sat down, his eyes darted from windows to doors, from Lalna to Panda, while his fingers drummed on the table.

"What is this about?" he asked, the moment the door was closed.

"Lal has something to tell you," Panda said.

"Oh good," said Rythian. "That can't _possibly_ be bad news."

"You're in a really bad mood, aren't you," Lalna said. Their eyes were pale purple, their face pulled into a frown. They were already tapping their thumbs together.

"What was your first clue?" Rythian said. He paused and took a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm sorry. It's—been a very, _very_ difficult week. And month. Last several months."

"Well," said Lalna. "I mean, you're right, though. It isn't good news and you aren't going to like it."

Rythian's eyes narrowed. He didn't say anything. Lalna looked to Panda, who gestured an encouragement to them. They turned back to Rythian.

"I found a non-functional backup of Lalnable and I kept it," they said.

Rythian went rigid. Sparks crackled up through his hair.

"Where?" he said darkly.

"I can't tell you," said Lalna. "But he's somewhere safe, and not in any condition to start functioning again. He's on a bunch of hard drives that aren't plugged into anything."

Rythian's hands clenched so hard his knuckles popped.

 _"Why?"_ he growled.

Lalna bowed their head. The light of their eyes had dimmed, their frown turned to something more of pain than of consternation.

"Someday, everyone I know is going to be dead," they said. "But I won't be. Or anyways, I don't _have_ to be, and right now I don't want to be. I'm not going to wake him back up while you're alive. I might never wake him back up. But . . . when everyone else is gone, when everybody else is dead, there'll still be somebody left who remembers. There'll still be somebody who understands. I'm sorry, but I can't throw that away."

"Dying would be better than being stuck with _him_ forever," Rythian spat.

"He's not going to wake up while you're still alive," said Lalna, "so you don't have to worry about it."

"How can you be sure? How can you be _sure_ he won't come back? He'll find some way, a year from now, ten years from now, you mark my fucking words—"

"I'm not deleting him, Rythian," Lalna said, quiet and sad and full of pain. "He's the only person in the universe like me. He's my brother. If I delete him, I'm alone forever. I don't want to be alone."

"If you keep him, you lose me," said Rythian. His whole body trembled. Sparks skittered through his hair and climbed the backs of his arms. Lalna looked at him with lightless eyes, pain written into every feature of their face.

"Then I guess this is goodbye," they said simply.

"I guess it is," said Rythian. A pair of tears spilled down his cheeks and skated around the sides of the mask. "Goodbye, Lalna."

"Goodbye, Rythian," said Lalna. "I love you."

Rythian got up and walked out. The door slammed behind him. Lalna bowed their head.

Carefully, Panda came over and put a hand on their arm.

"I'm sorry, Lal," he said.

They shrugged. "I sort of figured that's what would happen," they said. "I wanted to give him a chance, but I'd already pretty much made up my mind."

"What sort of a chance?" Panda said.

Lalna glanced at him. Their eyes flickered with orange.

"You won't like the answer," said Lalna.

"All right," said Panda. "Your choice."

They made a face. Faint blue light came on in their eyes.

"It's got to do with how Lalnable died," said Lalna. "Five was the most important thing to him in the world. More important than living. She abused him, and he wouldn't or couldn't leave, because he loved her so much. He died for her. Rythian used to be the most important thing in my world, but after seeing what it did to Lalnable? I don't want to live like that. I don't want to die like that."

"Yeah, but there's _way_ more factors here than you're making there out to be," said Panda. "I mean there's a difference between establishing healthy boundaries and—and being okay with the guy who _tortured_ you surviving."

"I never asked him to be okay with it," said Lalna. "That wasn't where he failed. The bit where he failed was trying to make me choose. _Him or me,_ ultimatum. I've decided I don't do ultimatums anymore."

"That's pretty fucking cold, Lal," said Panda.

"I said you wouldn't like it."

"No," said Panda. "But I don't think you're wrong."

Their eyes turned green. "You don't?"

"Not completely," he said. "I mean, you're an arsehole, but you're not wrong."

"That's fine," said Lalna. They paused, ticking their thumbs together. "You'll make sure Rythian's all right, though, won't you? I mean, like, you and Nilesy and everybody else."

"Of course," said Panda. "He's our friend."

"Okay," said Lalna. "Good. Thanks. You should probably go catch up with him. He's probably kicking things."

"Yeah," said Panda, wrinkling his nose. "I'll go see what I can do."

"Panda?"

"Yeah?"

Lalna attempted a smile. Their eyes had gone purple again.

"Take good care of him," they said.

"I will," he promised. "Catch up with you in the waiting area?"

"Sure," said Lalna, giving him a thumbs-up.

"Cool," said Panda. He darted out of the room, made a quick canvass of the corridor, and determined that Rythian was long gone.

It took about ten minutes for Panda to find him, sitting out in the courtyard with his mask on his knee and a lit cigarette in his hand.

"Didn't know you smoked," Panda said, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench from him.

"I didn't," said Rythian. "I'm allowed to. Takes the edge off."

"I guess that's good?"

Rythian coughed, then held his mask over his face for a couple of breaths. He set it down on his knee and took a drag off the cigarette.

"Where's Lalna?" he asked.

"Probably back in the waiting room by now. They're going to hang out there until it's time to go."

"Hm," said Rythian.

There was a long silence.

"Um," said Panda. "Nilesy and Lom and Nano say _hi."_

"How many of them know?" said Rythian.

Panda fidgeted. "All of them," he said.

"And why did you all keep it a secret for this long?"

"We . . . sort of figured you could use at least a few days," said Panda. "Of, y'know, maybe feeling sort of safe."

 _"Hah._ No. _Safe_ is not the word I would choose for how I've been feeling. Lied to, maybe. Manipulated. Deliberately kept ignorant and powerless."

"Rythian," said Panda, aching.

"If you so much as _think_ about touching me, this cigarette is going in your eye," said Rythian. He coughed again, and again sucked down a few breaths through the mask.

"Look, you've got every right to be angry," said Panda. "With Lalna, with—with all of us. But—"

"No," said Rythian. "No _but."_

Panda swallowed and looked away. He folded his hands in his lap.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I want to help."

"Then go find wherever Lalna put him and burn it to the fucking ground," said Rythian.

Panda didn't respond to that. It was an option. He'd give it due consideration.

Rythian stubbed out his cigarette and put his mask back on. He leaned his elbows on his knees and glared at the far wall of the courtyard.

"Where's Five?" he asked.

"YogLabs," said Panda, grateful to finally be giving answers that Rythian would want to hear. "Loads of space down there, now. I dunno what they're doing with her, but I know she's under constant supervision. Nano's planning to check up on her regularly, just to make sure. Y'know."

"Good," said Rythian. "At least _something's_ being done right."

The conversation stalled out again. Panda looked longingly towards the exit.

"I guess I'd probably better . . . get going," he said, cocking a thumb over his shoulder. "Y'know. Leave you to it."

"Already?" said Rythian, sitting up and turning to look at him.

"Well," said Panda, taken aback. "Unless you don't . . . _want_ me to go. I could stick around for a bit."

"I . . . yes," said Rythian. "I would like that. Just—with different . . . conversational topics. If possible. Please."

"Yeah, no, yeah, of course," said Panda, nodding emphatically. "Uhh, okay, what else. Uh. Did you hear how I caused the biggest Powered prison break in history?"

Rythian's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly, in something that just might have been a smile.

"I didn't," he said. "But I have a feeling I'm about to."


	59. Chapter 58

Nano waited a few days before visiting the prison, just to make sure everything had settled out. Fiona had informed her about the unusual setup at YogLabs, which had been in place since the night of the break out. As such, she made a slight detour just to make sure she saw all the highlights.

Prison-white suited Bebop.

He leapt up from his cot as Nano approached his cell, his mouth hanging open.

"Nano!" he cried, relief dripping from every syllable. "Oh, _boy,_ am I glad to see you! Listen, that bimorph you got workin' the Division? She's _nuts._ Totally nuts! She was _helping_ people get outta here, can you believe that? And then she threw me, _and_ Chrissa, down here where—"

"Oh, I know," said Nano. She smirked. "It's for your protection, Bebop. I'm sure you understand."

He stared at her. His hair was wild and frizzy. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping well.

"You—you—" he sputtered.

"What with everything that your department put those prisoners through, you're _lucky_ to be in a highly secured facility with armed guards," Nano went on. "I mean. Can you _imagine_ what your test subjects would do to you if they caught up with you?"

"Listen, hey, listen," Bebop said. He was sweating. "This has all been a _biiiiiig_ misunderst—"

"Because I don't _have_ to imagine," Nano cut in sharply. "I'm friends with some of them. And we've had some very _in-depth_ conversations, Bebop. About you. About Chrissa. I think they might have been paying attention. Picking up on your methods? And if not, I know you kept _very detailed notes."_

Bebop gulped. He backed away from the glass.

"I . . . think . . . I'm good," he said thinly. "I think I'm good. Down here. Alllllllll by myself. That's fine."

"I could get you out, if you wanted," Nano offered.

"Nope! No, hahah, no, I'm good down here. We'll just uh, we'll just let, uh, Harry. Run things. For me. Until the—the—until it's safe. Out there. Again. I'm good!"

"I thought you might say that," said Nano. "But if you ever _want_ out. . . ."

"Mmhm, yep, sure, thanks," said Bebop. His back was pressed to the wall of his cell. Nano couldn't restrain her smile.

"I hear Medical's looking for new test subjects," she said. "Volunteers? In the wake of the MOTHER attacks, they need _ever_ so many normies to run experiments on. I think your department did something similar at one point in the past. Fellow by the name of Parvis?"

Bebop went green. His lip was quivering.

"Must—must've been before my time," he croaked.

"Must have," said Nano. "But on the bright side, if you _do_ volunteer, maybe they'll give you a lollipop. You know, for being a good patient?"

"You're evil," Bebop whispered, trembling. "You're—you're _evil."_

"No," said Nano. _"Evil_ looks a bit different on me. Right now, I'm just _gloating."_

* * *

 

Chrissa was much more composed.

"I suppose you're very pleased with yourself," she said, sitting on her cot with her arms folded.

"Yes, immensely," said Nano. "I'm sure _you_ must be very disappointed."

"Winding up a political prisoner wasn't among my career goals, no," said Chrissa.

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant," said Nano. "I meant about Pandora's Box getting opened and all the _crazy freaks_ getting out. I was given to understand you were _very_ much against that."

Chrissa went stony. She said nothing. Nano gave her a tight smile.

"The walls have ears," Nano said.

"When I get out of here," Chrissa said slowly, "I am going to ruin you. This is the _second_ time you've conspired to overthrow the YogLabs board."

"It's so bizarre," Nano said. "How you talk about this place like it's a country. You're not a _political_ prisoner. You're just a regular prisoner. The Administrative Board isn't a government that can be overthrown, either. Don't go putting on airs, Chrissa, you're a bureaucrat."

"And you're a murderer," Chrissa spat.

"Takes one to know one," Nano shot back. "Enjoy your stay."

* * *

 

Five was also sitting on her cot, kicking her feet. She grinned as Nano walked up.

"You're late," she said. "They told me when you'd be coming, and you're late. Get held up?"

"No," said Nano. "You're just not worth hurrying for."

"Ooh, right to the quick," said Five, rolling her eyes. "Try harder, sweetheart."

"Funny thing, I haven't got to," said Nano. "We've worked out how you managed to get out of Strife Solutions. They'll be checking the glass regularly to make sure you haven't been scratching any weak points into it."

"Boo hoo," said Five. "I'll just have to work out some other way to escape your stupid little prison. If Panda could do it, it can't be _hard._ Got any other asinine bragging to get out of the way?"

"I think that's about it," said Nano. "I'm just here to let you know that I'll be checking up on you. About once a month. So you can look forward to that, if you like."

"With baited breath," Five said, fluttering her eyelashes. "How're things on the outside? Falling to bits?"

"Not really," said Nano. "The world seems to be coping admirably. I can understand how you'd have trouble predicting that, it doesn't seem like your area of expertise."

Five giggled, but her hands were clenched on the cot.

"Give it time," she said. "It'll get there."

"I think I'll just help fix it, actually," said Nano. "Since you're being tedious, I'm going to go do that now. I'll see you in a month."

"When's Rythian coming to see me?" Five asked.

"Never," said Nano. She turned and started to go. She knew the jab would be coming. She knew Five wouldn't be able to resist a parting shot.

"Aw, you should have him visit at _least_ once," said Five. "Even if it's just to see the baby."

Nano froze. Her brain couldn't process the words. There was no air in the room.

"They ran all sorts of tests on me when I came in," Five went on, just as casual, just as capricious. "That was one of them. I'm pretty sure it's Rythian's. We never could work out a way to keep Lalnable from dissolving, but _Rythian_ we fixed right up. Has to do with him not having a metal skeleton with loads of delicate wiring. On that note, just out of curiosity, how _do_ you and the bird fuck? Lots of latex?"

"You're _disgusting,"_ Nano said, her stomach churning.

"On the bright side, I guess now you know we're capable of getting pregnant," Five said. "Which I'll be honest: _I_ didn't. Never even crossed my mind. But I think I'm going to like being a mum. How's it feel being an auntie?"

"Rot in hell," Nano uttered, "you _bitch."_

She walked away before Five could bait her any further. Five tossed jibes at her back, but Nano managed to get out without responding to any of them. It didn't matter if Five got the last word. It was more important that Nano get out before she did something regrettable.

She considered, for a long time, whether or not she was going to tell Rythian.

The only conclusion she came to was: _not now._

* * *

 

Because she'd blocked out a much longer chunk of time for her prison visit, and because it was already a day for difficult conversations, Nano called up Lalna when she got back to her office. They agreed to come and meet her there, which she was grateful for. It wasn't a conversation to be had over the phone.

"Hiya," said Lalna, as they shut the door behind themself.

"Hey," said Nano. "Come on in, have a sit."

"Sure," said Lalna. They settled into the chair across from Nano's. "What's up?"

"A lot," Nano sighed. "How'd things go with Rythian?"

Lalna made a face and shrugged. "About as well as I'd expected," they said. "So . . . really poorly. I'm pretty sure he never wants to speak to me again."

"I'm sorry, Lal," said Nano, wincing. "That's really rough."

"I _was_ expecting it," Lalna said. "But yeah. I've been thinking about it a lot. Nilesy says that's normal, just so long as it's not _all_ I think about. Which it isn't."

"I think Nilesy's right on that one," said Nano. "If there's anything you need, let me know."

"I will," said Lalna. "How're you?"

"Busy," said Nano. "Very, very busy. I've been sort of . . . tying up loose ends. From last year."

Lalna's eyes turned a bright, suspicious fuchsia. "Is that what this is about?" they asked.

"Yes," said Nano, "it is."

"So what's the loose end?"

Nano shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

"There's no kind way to do this," she said, "so I'm afraid I have to be blunt, and I'm sorry for that."

"Okay," said Lalna. "Bluntness is all right."

She looked up at them. Their head was to one side, their eyes on the paler side of orange.

"Did you kill Zylus?" she asked.

Lalna's eyes flickered through a series of colors, so fast Nano could barely catch any of them—red, white, purple—and then went completely dark. They blinked. Their face was blank. They had gone very still. Nano hung her head and rubbed her temple.

"Please answer, Lalna," she said quietly. "Please."

"No," Lalna said. "I didn't. Why would you think I did?"

Nano couldn't restrain her sigh of relief.

"Because of how you talked about killing Five," she said. "Because your morality database got fucked up. Because I know you were angry with him and I know you were capable of killing him and because . . . things would have been less _simple_ if he'd survived."

"Yeah, that's accurate," said Lalna. "But I didn't anyway." They paused, eyes darting off to one side. "But I was going to."

She didn't respond to that. She couldn't find anything to say. Lalna continued, as she'd suspected they might.

"Once he was gone, like," they said. "Once he'd cut off all contact and gone away. Nobody would've even known he was dead. It was pretty much the optimal solution—he couldn't possibly hurt Nilesy ever again, but Panda wouldn't have felt guilty about him dying and nobody else would've been upset with me for killing him."

"Do you understand now why that would've been wrong?"

"It wouldn't have been wrong," Lalna said. "But I understand why you think it would."

"The only person with any right to hurt Zylus was Nilesy," said Nano. "And he chose not to, and that choice should be respected. Just like Rythian and Lomadia's choice not to kill Five."

"I guess I don't care as much about that," said Lalna. "I think I care more about results. I've worked something out, about people. Since you mention Zylus. I've been thinking a lot about some of the things he said, while I've been trying to work out what I'm going to do with Lalnable."

"Do tell," Nano said, putting her head in her hand.

"You can't fix people," said Lalna. "You can fix a broken bone, but you can't fix a person. Mostly because people don't break. They just change. And all of the changes are completely irreversible. You can make more changes that counteract others, but you can't make something un-happen, or make somebody un-think something. Even if they forget somehow, they're still changed, forever."

"And what's that got to do with Zylus?"

"That thing he said," said Lalna. "About having to break things worse to fix them. That only works on bones and machines. You can't even break a person, really. You can just hurt them, and if you keep hurting them, they just get more hurt. No, the only way you can _fix_ a living thing is to kill it. That's the only way it stays fixed. Sometimes that's the optimal solution."

"That's . . . a dangerous way of thinking, Lal," Nano said, as gently as she could.

"I know," said Lalna. They patted their breast pocket. "That's why I keep Lalnable about. To remind me."

"You've got him in your _pocket?"_

Lalna made a face. They pulled out a thumb drive that had _L41-NB_ written on it in sharpie.

"It's only got one file on it," they said. "The rest of him is on a few external hard drives in a secret box whose location I can't disclose to anyone."

"What file?" Nano said, unsure if she wanted to know.

They hesitated. They tapped the thumb drive against their palm.

"His last words," said Lalna. "He said, _I love you, Five. I'm sorry._ That's how I want to remember him. As somebody who was capable of love, and did horrible things anyway. It'll keep me from being too horrible, even if it's for what I think is a good cause. Side-effects are results, too, after all."

"That's . . . very true," said Nano. "And I'm glad you've taken it to heart."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, words hanging unsaid in the air like smoke after an explosion. The haunting familiarity of Lalnable's final words made Nano's skin crawl.

She had always known that there was a fine line between Lalna and Lalnable. She'd never considered that the line was just as thin going the other way.

"Nano?" said Lalna. "Am I a bad person?"

Nano took a deep breath and blew it out through her lips.

"Not yet," she said.

"Okay," said Lalna. They turned the thumb drive around in their hand, then put it back in their pocket. "Will you tell me if I ever get there?"

"I will," she said.

"Okay," Lalna said again. "I trust you. And . . . I love you, Mum."

The word rang with responsibility in a way it never had before. Nano bowed her head under the weight of it.

"I love you too, Lal," she said.

* * *

 

Less than a week later, Nano got a call from Isabel Peculier. It was a welcome relief from all the YogLabs business she'd been having to sort through—between the prison break and the administrative upheavals and the clamoring for aid in the MOTHER outbreaks, her phone had been ringing off the hook and she'd scarcely had a moment to herself.

She was still amazed she hadn't been replaced. It said a lot about what was expected of a Board member, that she could completely vanish for a couple of weeks during the biggest crisis the company had ever seen and still have a job when she got back.

"Hi Isabel," Nano said. "What's the occasion?"

_"Hi Nano,"_ said Isabel. _"I know you're tremendously busy, so I won't trouble you for long."_

"Please, trouble me for as long as humanly possible," said Nano

Isabel laughed. _"All right, I'll see what I can do. How are you? Holding up all right?"_

"Well enough," said Nano. "Better than expected, at least. How're the kids?"

_"Oh, they're frightened and excited and very confused,"_ said Isabel. _"Regular politicians, the lot of them. Jen in particular has been very excitable. Ever since she saw you on the news, she's been bragging nonstop. That's actually why I'm calling. I'd hoped you could find time to visit."_

"Oh," said Nano, pleasantly surprised. "I could . . . try and work something out. Would it be all right if I brought my wife? I think she'd enjoy meeting Jen."

_"Please, do!"_ said Isabel. _"You're a celebrity round here. They've taken quite a liking to playing superheroes."_

"Oh," Nano said again, blushing. "Well. That's—adorable."

_"Immensely,"_ said Isabel. _"_ _I don't think they knew it was an option before now. All the_ _cartoons_ _have the Powered people as the villains, after all._ _When would you like to visit? We can make time any time."_

"Let me check my schedule," Nano said.

She managed to find a free chunk of time that Saturday, and penned in her visit decisively. Everything else would wait. After that, she chatted with Isabel for another few minutes, then called up Lomadia to get her opinion on it. Lomadia was, as she'd suspected, absolutely delighted at the prospect.

Despite the best efforts of every known force in the universe, Saturday came around. Said forces also attempted to keep Nano from actually going to the meeting, but she was resolute. YogLabs had managed two weeks without her; it could last half a day.

"I think you'll like Jen," Nano said, as they came in the front gate of the home. There were no protesters outside this time, although the guards were still there.

"D'you think she'll like me?" said Lomadia, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

_"Oh_ yeah," said Nano. "She reminded me of you, a bit. I think the two of you will get along fantastically."

"You're _sure_ she's not upset about her dad?"

"It . . . never got mentioned," Nano admitted. "I think it should probably continue to _stay_ not mentioned. At least for now."

"So don't mention it."

"Yes," she said. Upon consideration, she added, "Although having met Liam, she probably already knows, in some capacity."

"I think I'll probably still not mention it," said Lomadia.

"That's probably wise," said Nano.

"D'you think Nilesy's mum will like me?"

"Yeah, of course," said Nano. "Isabel seems like she's managed to turn into a reasonably decent person. She's at least, y'know, nice."

As they went up the path, the front door opened and Isabel emerged. Jen was by her side, holding her hand. She was wearing a pretty blue dress and very shiny white shoes. The moment she caught sight of Nano, she lit up like Christmas morning.

"Miss Dr. Nano!" Jen cried, sprinting from Isabel's side. Nano knelt down to meet her.

"Hi, Jen—oh, hi!" Nano said, as Jen ran right up and flung her arms around Nano. "I—thank you. It's good to see you."

"Hi," Lomadia said to Isabel over their heads.

"Hi," said Isabel. "You must be Lomadia. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I _told_ everybody I knew you for real," Jen said, stepping back and planting her fists on her hips. "Now they'll believe me. Is Mr. Liam here?"

"Um," said Nano. "No, he's not. Unfortunately. He wanted to come, but he's very busy."

Jen sighed. "That's predictable," she said. "He's _always_ busy. I don't know _what_ he's doing all the time."

"Neither do I," said Nano. "I s'pose it's a mystery. But Jen, who I _did_ bring with me is my wife, Lomadia. Would you like to meet her?"

"Oh," said Jen. "Sure, I guess."

Nano stood up and presented Lomadia.

"Jen, this is Lomadia," she said. "Lom, this is Jen."

"Hi," said Lomadia. Jen gawped up at her, eyes as big as dinner plates. Lomadia smiled and waved.

_"Wow,"_ said Jen. "You're _really tall!"_

"Yeah!" said Lomadia. "I'm almost the tallest person I know."

"You mean there's people even _taller?"_ said Jen. "That's ridiculous! How can anybody be _even taller_ than _you?"_

"You should see my friend Lalna," said Lomadia. "They're gigantic."

"Taller than you?"

"Yeah, loads."

Jen turned to Isabel and gestured exasperation. "There's somebody _even taller_ than her! Can you believe it?"

"That's pretty incredible, Jen," said Isabel. "How tall d'you think Miss Lomadia is?"

Jen sized Lomadia up.

"Two meters," said Jen.

"That's really close," said Lomadia. "I'm a hundred and ninety-eight centimeters."

"I'm good at guessing," said Jen. "I'm really good at, like, measuring stuff just by looking. I bet I could tell you how tall Miss Dr. Nano is, too."

"Like a house on fire," Nano said aside as Lomadia and Jen chatted excitedly to each other.

"If you look up _precocious_ in the dictionary, there's a picture of Jen," said Isabel.

"You've got _cool feet!"_ Jen exclaimed. "Miss Izzy, Miss Izzy, look how _cool_ her _feet_ are! She's got talons! They're like owl feet, they're zygodactyl and everything!"

"Would you look at that, they certainly are!" said Isabel. She looked up at Lomadia. "Jen knows a lot about birds."

"You like birds?" Lomadia asked.

"I don't _like birds,"_ Jen said, derisive. "I'm going to be an ornithologist."

"Oh," said Lomadia. "What's an _or_ _n_ _-i_ _th_ _-ol-ogist_ _?"_

"Somebody who studies birds. I _love_ birds, they're the coolest."

"I'm part bird," said Lomadia, perking up.

"Yeah, I can tell because of the feet! Are you a bimorph? A strig—a stridge—a. . . ."

She looked appealingly to Isabel.

"Strigidaen," said Isabel.

"A strigidaen bimorph?" Jen asked Lomadia.

"Does that mean owl?"

"Yes, it's from Greek."

"Then yeah."

"Awesome! Are there other bits? You've got feathers on your face, too. I noticed."

"I used to have wings," Lomadia said. "They got pulled off, though."

Jen's eyes got very big. "Did it hurt?" she asked, horrified.

"Oh yeah," said Lomadia. "Loads. It's okay, though. I talked to my tall friend and they said they could grow them back."

"Oh, _good,"_ said Jen, pressing a hand to her chest and sagging. "D'you think you'll fledge again when they grow in? Only I bet you'd have really soft down and it'd be really nice."

Lomadia wrinkled her nose. "I dunno," she said. "The first time my wings grew in it was super itchy. I looked really stupid until my big feathers came in."

"How big _do_ your feathers get?" Jen asked. "As big as my face?"

Lomadia sized her up. "Even bigger," she said.

"Even _bigger?_ You've got to come visit again when you've got your wings back, I've _got_ to see them."

"Match made in heaven," Isabel said to Nano.

* * *

 

They stayed for about two hours, allowing Jen to give them a tour of the facility and meeting a good many other starstruck children. Jen showed Nano and Lomadia off as though it was a personal accomplishment to have gotten to know them first. Lomadia sat down with Jen for a good half hour to look through a book about owls, with Jen picking out and naming all the features that Lomadia had in common with certain birds and trying to work out what species of owl she was bimorphed with.

The goodbyes were protracted and tearful, with Jen refusing to let Nano and Lomadia leave until they'd promised to visit again. Isabel tried to talk her out of it, but she was resolute. Nano relented without putting up much of a fight; she was only reluctant because she wasn't sure it was a promise she'd be able to keep, considering the busyness of her schedule. She decided, in the end, that she'd make time.

Lomadia was in a better mood than Nano had seen her in months as they headed back to the car. There was a spring in her step, and she tapped her hands against her thighs as she walked, smiling to herself.

"Good first impressions?" Nano asked.

"She's the best," said Lomadia, practically floating. "She's wonderful. I love her. Can we keep her?"

Nano started to laugh, and then stopped.

Now _that_ was an idea. . . .


	60. Chapter 59

Nilesy had been spending a lot of time with Trell, and Trell was all right with this.

It had started with the occasional drop-in visit, first to check in and make sure Trell's Powers were back to normal (they were), and then to make sure Trell was all right (as much as he could be), and then to make sure _Granamyr_ was all right, and then to bring dinner once or twice to repay Trell's hospitality, and then, and then, and then. All of Nilesy's shark teeth had fallen out over the course of these visits, and the new human ones had replaced them with heartening alacrity. Trell considered it a sort of metaphor for the return to normality.

It was also neat because Nilesy had let him keep one of the teeth. He was considering making it into a necklace.

They'd started working through Trell's list of Worst Sci-Fi Movies Ever Made, which was a riot all round. Trell was hoping to eventually get to _good_ Sci-Fi movies, sort of ease Nilesy into it, but he had to admit that the charm of a real disasterpiece was growing on him.

It was after one such evening of hilarity that he decided now was as good a time as any to broach the lingering issue that had been preying on his mind for weeks.

"Nilesy," he said, while Nilesy bothered Granamyr in the papasan chair. "Are you up for serious conversation?"

"I've got the cat," said Nilesy, prodding Granamyr's nose. "So I s'pose I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Well, um," said Trell. "Full disclosure, and in the interest of honesty, I, er . . . well, I thought I should tell you that I . . . have, actually, kissed you."

Nilesy made a face.

"Was I about to die?" he asked.

"Yes," said Trell. "Actually."

"Yeah, that sounds like the sort of idiot stunt I'd pull," said Nilesy. He sighed and ran a hand back through his hair, which was going black at the roots. "Sorry about that."

"No, it's—well," said Trell. "Sort of what I wanted to talk to you about is, er. Well. I thought I might like to have another go. At some point. When you're . . . not dying. If you'd like."

Nilesy winced and tipped his head back and hissed through his teeth. It was not at all the reaction Trell had been expecting.

"I . . . don't," said Nilesy. "And—but I'll tell you why."

"Thanks," said Trell, who felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"Look, Trell, it's not that I don't want that, or that I don't like you, it's that . . . I haven't been properly single since I was fifteen. At all. And I don't know who I am when I'm not in a relationship. I don't know what Single Nilesy is like. I think I've got to work that out first. Otherwise I won't be able to keep from falling back into . . . old habits. Which I really don't want to."

"Well," said Trell. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I can respect that."

"Not to mention the fucking dissociative identity disorder," Nilesy said.

"That also seems like a significant obstacle," said Trell.

"Not so much as you'd think," said Nilesy. "I've managed. I've just—I think I've got to work on putting myself back together, and I don't know that I can do that whilst trying to be in a relationship."

"No, yeah, totally," said Trell. "Totally understandable."

"Not even sure how long I'll go on being me," said Nilesy. "Wouldn't want you to end up dating Liam, _God."_

"Well, you know," said Trell, fidgeting. "I was sort of prepared to be in with the lot of you."

"Christ, were you?" said Nilesy. "Even _I'm_ not prepared to be in with the lot of me."

"Sort of a moot point now, I s'pose," said Trell."

"Well, but . . . maybe we could take a rain check? On all this?" Nilesy said, pained and hopeful. "I dunno if Fox is amenable to that sort of thing, but I've had polyamory work out well enough in the past, so it's an option. If—everyone's on board with it, of course. Won't be party to cheating."

"Oh," said Trell. "Yeah. Sure. I was going to have to talk it over with xem anyway, so. . . ."

"Yeah," said Nilesy. He flashed a grin and Trell's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, no, good plan. I'm—I actually sort of had that whole speech, earlier, prepared, because I'm going to have to give it to Lom and Panda as well, so . . . woo, communication! Hahah. Hah."

"That is," Trell said, "absolutely, the _dorkiest_ thing you've ever done."

"It's the dorkiest thing I've ever done in front of _you,"_ Nilesy allowed. He made a face, then shrugged. "D'you know, speaking of Panda, I'd probably better head back. He's just got his new insulin pump, and he'll be wanting help naming it."

"Sure," said Trell. "Right. D'you . . . need a ride, or anything?"

"Nah," said Nilesy. He gently encouraged Granamyr to get out of his lap, then stood and stretched. "I made my own way here, I can get back."

"Only it is rather late," said Trell, getting up as well.

Nilesy gave him a Look. "Oh no," he drawled. "What if there's a serial killer. Whatever shall I do."

"All right, _look,"_ said Trell. Nilesy laughed, starting for the door. Trell drifted along with him.

"Should I text you when I get home safe?" Nilesy asked, half-teasing.

"I would actually appreciate that, yes," said Trell.

"Will do," said Nilesy. "But really, I'd better go. Panda'll worry."

"Yeah, no, of course," said Trell. He opened the door for Nilesy, and Nilesy stepped out. He turned back. It took every ounce of strength Trell had not to take his hand.

"Before I go," Nilesy said. "D'you think it'd be all right to go on doing this movie thing? Only I don't want to step on any toes or . . . present too difficult of temptations."

"Are you planning on being tempting?" Trell asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not on purpose," said Nilesy. "Are _you?"_

"Not on purpose," said Trell. "I don't think there'll be any issues. Eventually I'll get you round to the _good_ Star Trek movies."

"What d'you mean, these've been _fantastic,"_ said Nilesy, grinning.

"Of course," said Trell, rolling his eyes.

Nilesy hesitated. Trell's heart turned a somersault.

"I'll text you when I get home," Nilesy said, and chucked him on the shoulder, and walked away.

"Thanks," said Trell. He shut the door. He put his back against it. He rubbed his arm.

He'd have to tell Fox.

* * *

 

"So," Trell began.

"Oh, Christ, here we go," Fox said, letting xyr head loll back on the headboard. "Is this the dreaded _talk?"_

"It was meant to be," said Trell.

"All right, go on then," said Fox, waving a decadent hand. "Talk me."

Trell took a deep breath to steady himself. Nilesy had given him a lot of pointers on how this ought to be done, but he was still struggling with the phrasing. It just sounded _stupid._

"I feel . . . hurt, and confused," he said, "when I'm—when I'm forced to constantly work out whether or not you're meant to be having feelings at the moment. I don't know when I'm meant to treat you like a partner and when I'm meant to treat you like a friend."

"Both," said Fox. "All the time, both. That's what a partner _is."_

"Look, ninety percent of the time, if I start trying to be— _close,_ with you, you mock me for it."

"Yeah, Trell, there's a massive fucking difference between being gooey and treating somebody with respect," said Fox. "I expect to be treated with respect all the time. And honestly I don't mind if you call me a piece of shit from time to time, sometimes I'm a piece of shit. What I _won't_ put up with is you using your Powers to avoid consequences."

"That's not what I—"

"Fuckin' _isn't_ it?"

Trell shut his mouth.

"You starting to understand where I'm fuckin' coming from?" Fox asked, folding xyr arms.

"Yes," said Trell. "I think I'm getting it."

"Good," said Fox.

For a while, neither of them said anything.

"Fox," said Trell. "Sort of . . . semi-related. Are you aromantic?"

"Pff, I dunno, probably," said Fox. "It's all a continuum, right?" Xe looked at him sideways. "I didn't know you knew that word."

"I've been learning," said Trell. "But—the thing is, I'm _not_ aromantic. I'm . . . really sure I'm not."

"Is that gonna be a problem?" said Fox.

"I don't know," said Trell. "Maybe. It—if it is, y'know, there's . . . options. That I'd at least like to talk about."

"Is one of those options Nilesy?"

Trell went hot from his scalp to his toes. He looked at Fox aghast.

"What—how—why—" he sputtered.

"'Cuz I'm not a fuckin' idiot, Trell," said Fox. "I've got eyes in my head."

"I—well," said Trell. He shifted a little farther away from Fox in the bed, picking at his fingernails. "Well. Full disclosure, um. And I was going to tell you this, without you bringing it up, I just—"

"Yeah yeah, get to the point," Fox sighed.

"I have sort of kissed him," said Trell. He hastened to add: "But I _literally_ thought the world had just ended, and he was dying, and I was pretty sure _I_ was dying, and it was all incredibly horrendous and—"

"All right, keep your trousers on," said Fox. "Or off. Considering. Yeah, it's whatever, couldn't blame you. He's attractive enough."

"Fox, look, I really am sorry," said Trell.

"Nah, I get it, yeah?" said Fox. "He's tremendously charming. Like most serial killers."

"See, this is what I mean," said Trell. "I've got no idea if you're actually upset or not. I don't know if I've hurt you and I don't know what I'm meant to do."

"Fine then, I'll spell it out for you," said Fox, rolling xyr eyes. "Yeah, I'm a bit miffed you've kissed him, but honestly, Trell, honestly, I'm relieved. I reckoned the two of you had been going at it like rabbits for weeks."

 _"What?"_ Trell squeaked.

"I wasn't plannin' on doing anything about it 'til I had confirmation, of course," said Fox. "But once I did, I was kicking you to the curb."

"Fox, I—I really, honestly, haven't cheated on you."

"No, yeah, I've worked that out," said Fox. "I notice you didn't say you _wouldn't."_

"I thought that went without saying," said Trell. "Because you'd kill me."

"Nah, I'd just kick you to the curb and hook up with your side ho."

"My _what?"_

"Side chick," said Fox. "I don't s'pose Nilesy's into my sort of people?"

"He's—bi, so maybe, but look, Fox, it's really all beside the point, because I've talked with him about it, and he's really not up for any sort of relationship at the moment, with anyone."

"Oh, really," said Fox. Xe had that _bit miffed_ look about xem.

"All right, but he's a lot easier to talk to about— _feelings,_ than you are," said Trell.

"That's fair," Fox admitted.

"I mean, the word _polyamory_ was sort of mentioned, in a future-options sort of way," said Trell. "If that's a thing you might want to give a go. At some point."

"Yeah, fuck it," said Fox. "I'll try anything once."

"Thanks, Fox," said Trell. He breathed. "Good talk."

"Is the talk done now?"

"I think so."

"Fantastic, 'cuz I'd like you to fuck me again, thanks. And while we're spelling things out, it's 'cuz I really fuckin' missed you and it makes me feel happy and loved."

Trell shrugged.

"All right," he said gamely.

* * *

 

A couple days later, Trell was roused from a late-night TV marathon by a knock at his door. Grumbling to himself, he got up and answered it, expecting his landlord, the police, or at best, Nano.

Instead, there was Nilesy again.

"Could I borrow you?" he asked, in a voice that wasn't his own. Trell looked him up and down, taking in his posture, his expression. He was wearing a sharp three-piece suit, black and white with a dark blue tie.

"Liam, I presume," said Trell. He kept his hand on the door, ready to close it (for all the good that would do).

"Correct," said Liam. "Now that we've sussed that out: could I borrow you?"

"What for?" Trell asked.

"I've got a meeting with Mr. Strife," said Liam. "I was hoping you could give me a ride."

"I haven't got a car," said Trell.

"Yes, I'm aware," said Liam. "I borrowed one for the occasion."

"Then why d'you need a ride?"

Liam smiled. It would have been more charming if Trell hadn't seen the same expression turned on Lalnable and Five moments before they were ripped to bloody shreds.

"Your level of involvement after the driving is entirely up to you," he said. "Though yes, admittedly, I had hoped you'd tag along for the whole thing. You could think of it as chaperoning, if you'd prefer."

"For this, quote-unquote, _whole thing."_

"Yes."

"Am I going to be told what the _thing_ is, or is that a surprise?" Trell asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, no, that's got to be a surprise," said Liam, twinkling. "Unfortunately I'm not going to budge on that point. I understand if that affects your level of commitment."

Trell rolled his eyes. "You're insufferable," he said. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Nearly everyone I've ever met," Liam said. "You'll have to try harder if you want to actually insult me."

"I would, but I don't have a death wish," said Trell. Liam laughed.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "I wouldn't _kill_ you."

The way he said it, it somehow failed to be reassuring.

* * *

 

Trell began to catch on to the intended nature of this late-night rendezvous with Strife when Liam's directions took them to a stately townhouse south of Bristol. They were shown in by a butler, of all things, and sent up to Strife's room. The butler distinctly said _room,_ not _office._

"When you said _meeting,"_ Trell said, as they ascended the marble staircase from the foyer.

"I meant meeting," Liam said innocently.

"The sort of meeting that needs a chaperone?"

"The sort of meeting that necessitates _you,"_ said Liam.

"I don't like that sort of meeting."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"D'you mind telling me what the meeting is about?"

"I can tell you why it was arranged, yes," said Liam. "Or you could guess. It may be a significant hint that Mr. Strife thinks he's meeting Vee tonight. Well, _technically_ he thinks he's meeting Nilesy, but he can't tell the difference, nor does Vee want him to."

"Is this what you called him about?" Trell said. "On the plane to Kingston?"

"Yes, precisely," said Liam, impressed. "I'm surprised you remembered."

They came to Strife's room, and Liam knocked.

 _"In!"_ Strife barked.

"End of intermission," Liam whispered to Trell. "Act Three."

And he opened the door and strode in, leaving Trell to trail behind him.

Strife's room was opulent, decadent, bordering on lavish. There was a huge four-poster bed, complete with draperies. There were red shag carpets. There was whiskey and champagne. There was Strife in a red silk bathrobe, which was _not_ something Trell had ever wanted to witness.

"Uh, no," Strife said, as the door swung shut behind the two of them. He gestured sharply to Trell. "What the hell is _he_ doing here?"

"He gave me a ride," Liam said easily. "He just wanted to come in to make sure I wasn't in any trouble."

Strife's eyebrows raised. He didn't seem surprised to hear another voice coming out of Nilesy's mouth—rather, he looked excited. Trell barely managed to keep his lip from curling.

"Oh," Strife said. "Uh, well, in that case. Everything's fine, Toffee, now get lost. Oh, also? You're fired, so don't come back, or I'm pressing charges for assault and Grand Theft Airplane."

 _"Fine_ is a strong word, Mr. Strife," Liam said slowly. "I'm not sure I would go so far as to say everything was _fine."_

The change that came over Strife was instantaneous and dramatic. He shot to his feet, gripping his cane. His face reddened, his shoulders stiffened.

"What is this?" he demanded.

"So suspicious, Mr. Strife," said Liam. "What do _you_ think is about to happen to you? What is it you think you've _earned?"_

"You get the fuck out of here before—"

Strife broke off suddenly, turning the color of sour milk. He dropped his cane, clutching at his chest. A slow, reptilian smile spread across Liam's face. His eyes were like gemstones, cold and lifeless. At his side, his hand was held in a relaxed gesture, the first two fingers extended with the others curled in towards the palm.

"Oh, dear," Liam said slowly. "That's not a good sign."

"What—what are you doing—to me?" Strife gasped, pain contorting his face.

"Me?" said Liam. "Not a thing. It must be all those cigars, Mr. Strife. And the alcohol. And the stress."

His fingers curled, ever so slightly. Strife dropped to his knees.

"Hard drugs," Liam said, every syllable dripping with enmity. "Rough sex."

Strife looked up at him, tears streaming down his face.

"Please," he wheezed. "Please, I—I'll give you a-anything, anything—please—"

He dragged himself across the floor towards Liam, who watched him like someone might watch an ant trying to drag a leaf.

"Please don't—kill me," Strife begged. He reached out for Liam's ankle. Liam took the smallest step back, just out of Strife's reach.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," he said calmly.

 _"Nilesy,"_ Strife whimpered. "Please, God—I'm sorry, I'm—I don't know what you—what you want, I—"

 _"My_ name," Liam said, "is _Liam."_

He knelt down, looking directly into Strife's eyes, and he was slow and cold and inexorable, glacial. Strife looked back, terror-stricken, in agony.

"And I _remember_ you," Liam hissed.

Strife could only gasp like a landed fish. His eyes were coming unfocused. He collapsed under his own weight, twitching, helpless. Liam watched him, that smile unmoved from his lips.

Trell stood and watched as Strife died on the floor. A last rattling breath sighed from his throat, and his staring eyes went glassy. Liam's hand relaxed, and he got to his feet. He took a slow, deep breath, tipping his head back. His tongue traced his teeth, left to right, as the smile cracked open into a grin.

 _"Well,"_ he sighed. "As a last hurrah, I think that'll do."

Trell gulped. He'd broken out in a cold sweat, his heart racing. His abdomen was aching, twingeing, begging to skip back.

"If you think I shouldn't have killed him, Trell," Liam said, "you can stop me."

"Will you . . . let yourself be stopped?" Trell croaked. He couldn't take his eyes off Strife's corpse.

"Of course," Liam said. "That's why I brought you here." He sighed, sobering. "I haven't exactly got a functional moral compass. Only a phobia of consequences. If you tell me it was wrong, I'll believe you. I just wanted to do it once. Even if I don't remember it next time round, I'll know I did it once."

Trell clenched his jaw, rubbed his mouth.

"What did he do to you?" he asked. "That he deserved to die."

Liam looked at him, sardonic. "Everyone deserves to die, Trell," he said. "That's why everyone does."

"Then . . . what made you want to kill him?"

"Oh, he offered to murder me in cold blood when I was seven," Liam said, offhanded. "But if I'm being honest, it's because he disgusted me. It's because of how he treated Nilesy, and Rythian, and everyone else who had the misfortune of straying into his path. It's because he was a vicious bigot who was endlessly infatuated with my father, who was also a vicious bigot. It's because I couldn't think of a better legacy than giving a meaningless end to a worthless man."

"That's almost noble of you," said Trell.

"Almost," said Liam, his eyes glittering.

Trell licked his lips, and fidgeted, and made a face.

"It's . . . such a shame," he said slowly, feeling out the sentence like the walls of a pitch-black room. "That his . . . poor choices finally caught up with him like this."

Liam grinned, delighted, and then swallowed down the expression.

"I'll try not to look too pleased," he said. "I can tell it makes you uncomfortable."

This time, it was Trell's turn not to reply.

"I would appreciate it," Liam said softly, "if you wouldn't tell Nilesy about this."

Trell looked up, frowning. "Won't he know?"

"Oh, eventually," said Liam. He turned away from Strife's corpse as though it had simply ceased to exist. "But he's got enough to deal with at the moment, and he'd pitch an absolute fit if he knew. Not to say he didn't want Strife dead. He'd just feel guilty over it."

"And . . . you won't?"

"What's there to be guilty over?" Liam said, that grin breaking out across his face again. "It was his lifestyle that killed him, after all."

"Aren't there security cameras and things in here?" Trell said, growing antsier by the minute.

"Ah," said Liam, frowning. "Hm. I didn't think of that. That might be an issue. You wouldn't mind terribly, would you, if we had another go at this?"

Trell thought about it for a good long while. Liam got more nervous by the second, winding up like a toy soldier until he was nearly vibrating.

"Next time," Trell said, "I'm not coming in with you."

"That seems like an optimal solution," said Liam, subsiding back into his relaxed attitude. "And thank you. Remind me to make it look like an accident, otherwise it _will_ slip my mind."

"Yeah," said Trell. "Will do."

He shut his eyes, and focused, and yanked himself out of his body.

He had the whole time he was falling to decide whether or not he'd just lied.


	61. Chapter 60

Nilesy found himself on an open portico, looking out upon a beach of white sand. Beyond it, the ocean was a crystalline turquoise, clear and calm. Surf rolled in, steady as breathing. There was a keening of gulls, just on the edge of hearing. Palm trees and yucca flushed the coastline with brilliant greens. The sky was blue and cloudless, the sun warm. The smell of salt and coconut pervaded the air. He was barefoot. He turned, slowly, taking in the woven reed mats, the thatch roof of the portico, the small room through the french doors behind him.

There was a glass-top end-table with a vase full of baby's-breath flowers. There were two wicker chairs, one on either side of the table. Liam was standing behind one of them.

He was older—fifteen, perhaps—and ethereal. His skin was almost translucent, his eyes bright. He was dressed in white linen. The sea breeze tousled his hair, which he'd let grow out until it tickled his jaw. It was midnight-black against the pallor of his skin. In the back corner of the room, there was a brass-and-gold humanoid statue, all gears and pistons, expressionless. It had Liam's face. Nilesy pointed at it.

"Who's that?" he said.

Liam glanced back at the thing. "Ah, yes," he said. "That's Helper Bot. He fronts when nobody else can. He can't hear us. All he does is follow instructions."

Nilesy nodded slowly. "And where's Vee?" he asked.

Shrugging, Liam averted his eyes and made a restrained gesture.

"I put him away," he said. "He can't get out."

Nilesy picked his way into the room, through the french doors and the white chiffon curtains. He sank into one of the wicker chairs. After a moment, Liam settled into the other.

"I wanted to talk to you," Liam said.

"Well," said Nilesy. "Here I am."

"Yes," said Liam.

"How long have you been in front?"

"About three hours," said Liam. "I'm almost done. This was the last thing I wanted to do."

There was a long moment of quiet, just the distant roar of the sea and the shrieking of the gulls. Liam sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together.

"I know what's got to happen," he said, watching his hands. "To us. And I know why. And . . . I felt like we should talk about it. Before it happens."

"I don't know that there's much to say," said Nilesy.

"There is," said Liam. He took a deep breath. "I know that . . . Vee thinks I'll be the one going on. You think it, too. And for a long time, so did I. But . . . I don't think that, now." He looked up, met Nilesy's gaze. His eyes were the color of sea-glass, clear and febrile. "I think it should be you."

"I—well," said Nilesy, taken aback, floundering. "Well, you know, technically it'll be all of us. And . . . none of us. Sort of."

"Yes," Liam allowed, "but there's got to be a flag to rally under. It should be yours. Nilesy, all I've ever done is run away. I think it's all I know _how_ to do."

"You did all right, at Fair Isle," Nilesy said.

Liam was shaking his head before Nilesy even finished getting the sentence out.

"That was at _least_ half Vee," he said. "I never front alone if I can help it. I'm tired, Nilesy. I'm through. I don't _want_ to go back. I don't want to put all these pieces back together. There's not enough of me left to hold them."

"There's plenty of you left," he said.

"But there's nothing _for_ me, out there," Liam said, gesturing helplessly. "There's no friends, there's no family, there's nothing that I _want."_

"Isabel?" Nilesy suggested.

"She likes you better, though," said Liam. "Everyone likes you better."

"I don't think that's at all true. She's your mother, after all."

"Our mother," said Liam.

 _"Your—_ _"_ Nilesy began to insist, and then stopped himself. He clenched his fist and let out a slow breath. "Fine. But you're her son."

"Yes, but she's . . . but I don't really want to have that much to do with her, honestly. I don't want to remember what she did, because I love her and I've managed to forgive her. As soon as I remember, I don't think I'll be able to maintain that."

"Fair," Nilesy allowed. "But there's Rythian."

Liam got very quiet. He pushed his hair off his face with his wrist.

"I'll . . . still get to see him, though," he said. "Through you. With you. _As_ you. I think that's enough. I think I always sort of knew it'd be you. I never really meant to come back."

Somewhere out on the sun-drenched beach, a pair of gulls squabbled. A large wave crashed on the white sand, like distant thunder.

"Liam," Nilesy said.

"I'm sorry," Liam interrupted. A pair of tears spilled down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Nilesy, for _everything._ I'm sorry I brought you into this mess. I'm sorry I made you carry it for so long. I'm sorry about Vee. I'm—I'm sorry I can't—I'm sorry I'm asking you to keep on carrying it. I'm sorry. But I _can't._ I needed you because I _can't._ I'm not strong enough. But you—you're everything I wanted to be and I wish I could've saved you from all of it, but it was too much, and it's still too much—"

Nilesy held up a hand. Liam swallowed down his voice, sniffling, crying.

"I'm sorry, too," Nilesy said softly. "I'm . . . sorry I couldn't protect you. From everything out there. From Xephos. From Zylus. From—from _me._ I'm sorry for how I treated you. I should never have got so . . . abusive."

"I forgive you," said Liam. Nilesy cracked a wry smile, rolling his eyes.

"Of course you do," he sighed.

"I mean it."

"I know," he said, and then, more gently, "I know, and . . . I'm a bit jealous, to tell you the truth. I wish I could. Forgive people."

"Well . . . I suppose that's something I can bring to the table," said Liam.

Nilesy regarded him. "What about Vee?"

"We'll worry about Vee later," said Liam, making a face. "One thing at a time."

There was another long, lazy patch of quiet. The breeze tousled Nilesy's hair, soft-fingered and warm. The scent of mangos and passion flowers wafted through.

 _"All_ of it?" Nilesy asked softly.

"What?"

"You wished you could've saved me from _all_ of it?"

Liam looked away. A cloud scudded over the sun.

"There's . . . things you don't know," Liam admitted. "Things I hid. You got most of it, so I wouldn't have it, but . . . I kept some. I remember some things. I've done some things. And I don't want to remember the things I gave to you, but . . . but I don't want you to have to see the things I kept, either."

Nilesy took a slow, deep breath.

"I can't carry it for you," he said. "I can't carry any of this for you anymore. But I can help you carry it. All of it."

Nodding, downcast, Liam wiped his nose on his wrist. "Not today," he said. "Not right now."

"When you're ready," said Nilesy.

Liam fidgeted.

"What if I'm never ready?" he asked.

"Then you pick a point and do it anyway," said Nilesy.

"I suppose that's the difference, between you and me," Liam said. "I never learned how to do that."

"You never had to," said Nilesy.

The wind gusted cold through the portico. A wave crashed upon the shore like thunder. Liam shrank, paling to a nearly iridescent seashell-white. Nilesy leaned over and put two fingers on his wrist.

"It's not your fault," he said.

Liam looked up at him, shell and sea-glass and midnight, fragile and young, vast and unfathomably deep. There were tears on his face.

"Liam," Nilesy said, holding his gaze. "It's _not_ your fault."

With the faintest of sobs, Liam tumbled from his chair and flung his arms around Nilesy. Carefully, gently, Nilesy hugged him back.

"Thank you," Liam whispered.

"You're welcome," said Nilesy.

Liam sniffled. "Not entirely for my sake?" he asked wryly.

"No," said Nilesy. "It was always for you."

* * *

 

It was a Thursday afternoon in mid-June when the men showed up.

Nilesy had mostly been busying himself getting Rythian's things moved from his room at the flat to the rehab clinic, as well as making sure he wasn't excruciatingly lonely there. The movie nights with Trell had been settled for Wednesdays, and therefore he'd had a late night and a late morning. He'd been bored enough that he'd started nosing around for potential employment, although not with any real vigor or determination. Lalna was off at YogLabs doing something or other, and Panda had picked up some temp work for Fiona (stringently _not_ with the Division) helping to locate and relocate the escaped YogLabs prisoners.

Which was all to say, Nilesy was home alone, and therefore had to answer the door when somebody knocked.

Still blinking the fog from his vision, he shuffled out to the front door. He opened it without peering through the peephole, expecting a neighbor or perhaps a salesman.

Instead, there were two tall men in sharp suits, each carrying a briefcase, and both looking very grim.

"Mr. MacKay?" one of them said.

Nilesy looked the men up and down. They had the look of lawyers, but could have been detectives. If they were here for him, the latter was much more likely.

"Yes?" he said cautiously.

"We're very sorry to tell you this, but Mr. William Strife has passed away," the one said.

Nilesy stared. "He . . . oh," he said, totally blindsided. "And—sorry, what's that got to do with me?"

"May we come inside?" the other asked.

"No," said Nilesy, "I'd like my question answered first, thanks."

The two looked at each other. The one on the left shrugged.

"Well, Mr. MacKay, we're here because you are listed as the sole beneficiary in Mr. Strife's will," said the one on the right.

"Bullshit," said Nilesy.

The one on the left hefted his briefcase. "We've got a copy here, sir, if you'd like to see it."

"He didn't—have any relatives? Any children?"

"I reckon he might've had at least one," said the lawyer on the right, watching Nilesy much too closely.

Nilesy opened his mouth. He closed it again. He stood aside.

"You'd better come in, then," he said.

 _Did you fucking know about this?_ he hissed at Liam. All he got back was a silent, noncommittal shrug. It didn't matter much. He could feel Vee radiating smugness like a hydrothermal vent. He led the lawyers to the coffee table and pulled up a pair of chairs for them, then sat himself on the couch.

"I s'pose introductions might be in order?" Nilesy asked.

"Of course," said one. "My name is Mr. Benjamin Edgar and this is my associate, Mr. Barry Marshall. We worked personally with Mr. Strife."

 _Murdoc_ _MacKay_ _,_ Liam whispered. _There's a proper ID in your sock drawer._ _I_ _had_ _Mum make it a_ _few_ _weeks ago_ _, though not specifically for this._

"Murdoc MacKay," Nilesy said, sticking out a hand, "though I s'pose you knew that already. Pleasure to meet you both."

He shook their hands. They both had very firm grips.

"Before we proceed, Mr. MacKay, we will need to confirm your identity," said Mr. Marshall. "Just some personal information for you to verify."

"Of course," said Nilesy.

They went through the standard hoops—full name, birthdate, ID number (which Liam whispered to him)—and seemed satisfied even without seeing the physical ID.

"Now, Mr. MacKay, as I'm sure you understand, you have inherited rather a substantial sum," said Mr. Edgar. "However, in addition, you have also been named as the first choice for CEO of Strife Solutions, should you wish to accept the position."

The look on Mr. Marshall's face indicated that he found this a distasteful sort of situation. Nilesy was inclined to agree.

"I'll have to . . . think about that," he said. His voice was starting to go. His head was spinning.

"Very wise," said Mr. Edgar. "Regardless, we have been tasked with explaining to you the terms and conditions of the will, as well as the contents."

"So . . . all right, how much, then?" said Nilesy. He was, he thought, probably dreaming, or else hallucinating. This could very well have been something Vee had cooked up just to fuck with him.

"Counting assets and current stocks, after taxes, the total comes to about forty billion pounds," said Mr. Edgar.

He was _definitely_ dreaming. "Oh," he said. "Is that all. And—sorry, what all hoops have I got to jump through? For . . . that?"

Mr. Marshall opened his briefcase. There was a massive stack of paperwork inside.

"These ones, primarily," he said.

"Ah," said Nilesy.

"If you'd care for my advice, Mr. MacKay, you might want to hire a very good solicitor to go over those with you."

"Sure," said Nilesy. "In that vein, what's the going rate on you two?"

The lawyers shared a glance.

"Generally we like to operate at a thousand per day," said Mr. Edgar. "But if we're to maintain our positions at Strife Solutions full-time, then our salaries are a round three hundred and sixty thousand per year, plus benefits."

"And paid vacations," Mr. Marshall added hastily.

"Yes! Ten weeks' paid vacation."

Nilesy gave him a dubious look.

"Well," said Mr. Edgar. "Closer to five."

"Closer to five," Mr. Marshall agreed.

"All right," said Nilesy. He leaned his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers. "Start on page one, and I hope you haven't got anywhere to be today."

"Really all you've got to do is sign," Mr. Edgar said hopefully. Nilesy raised his eyebrows at him.

"Start on page one, please," he repeated, "and I hope you two haven't got anywhere to be today."

"No," Mr. Marshall sighed, setting out the first sheaf of paper. "Not anymore."

* * *

 

Nano and Lalna arrived first, about three minutes before the hour. Nano looked grim, and Lalna's eyes were bright pink with suspicion.

"Hiya, Nilesy," Lalna said, as Nilesy let them in. "You got invited, too?"

"I gather it's a family meeting," Nilesy said.

"And yet," Nano said, looking around Strife's penthouse office, "the shiny new CEO himself seems to be absent."

"Probably intending to make an entrance," Nilesy said, barely containing his glee.

Fox and Trell were next, exactly on time.

"Late to his own meeting, is he?" Trell said, making a face. "Wonderful, love him already."

"Do we even know this bloke's _name?"_ Fox demanded.

"I don't," said Nano. "The email was singularly unhelpful."

"I could find out," Lalna offered.

"Nah, don't spoil the surprise, sib," Nilesy said. "Let him have his silly dramatics."

Panda, Rythian, Zoey, and Fiona all arrived together at about five minutes past. Rythian beelined to the corner farthest from Lalna and Nano and put his back to the wall, arms folded and eyes darting. A twinge of regret shot through Nilesy's heart—maybe Rythian should have remained uninvited to this particular performance.

"Looks like the gang's all here," Panda said. "So where's Strife Mark Two?"

"If he's smart?" said Fox. "Putting on his fuckin' body armor."

"Maybe he's like, ummm, getting presents! For us," said Zoey. "Because we're like, so super awesome cool and everything."

"Or maybe he's going to fill up the room with poison gas," Rythian said.

"Oh," said Zoey. "Um. I guess that's—possible, ooh, I didn't think of that, that'd be bad, um—"

"If he's going to, inviting me along was a mistake," Trell drawled.

"No poison gas," Nilesy said. He sauntered to the desk and flipped up the gold nameplate. _C_ _HIEF_ _EXECUTIVE OFFICER, MACKAY INDUSTRIES_ gleamed out at the room. "I just wanted to be the first to welcome you all to the freshly-rebranded MacKay Industries and offer my most heartfelt thanks for all that you've done to help get me here. Turns out I got left _not only_ the family fortune, but the company as well! Obviously I've made some initial renovations during my _very_ short tenure as CEO. Every single one of them was a bloody pain in the arse."

Utter silence followed the words. Nilesy dropped into the big chair behind the desk and kicked his feet up, steepling his fingers.

"So, first thing's first," he said, grinning around at their stunned expressions. "Who wants to take this _fucking_ job off my hands?"

The silence stretched on for another breathless moment.

"Dibs," said Trell.


	62. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a Q&A on Tumblr (ask-powered.tumblr.com) this coming Sunday, all day! Drop by if you have questions, further comments, or just want to cry with me!

_One Year Later_

 

They were just starting their initial descent into Marseille when Rythian called.

Panda answered as quickly as he could, and within a moment the webcam popped up. Rythian was sitting in Zoey and Fiona's living room, looking about as haggard as usual. Barry was splayed out on the couch behind him, snoring with deep, doggy dreams.

 _"Hi,"_ said Rythian. _"Is it—is this a good time?"_

"Yeah, for sure," said Panda. "We've still got like half an hour before showtime."

 _"Okay, good,"_ said Rythian. _"I might have sort of forgotten I was supposed to call."_

"See, I did _tell_ you to set an alarm on your phone," Panda said.

 _"You . . . did,"_ said Rythian. _"Do that. And then I also forgot to do that."_

"Mmkay, well, how about you do it right now?"

 _"Yes, good plan, yes,"_ said Rythian. He fiddled around for a bit and then looked back up at the camera. _"Done."_

"Nice," said Panda. "Sooooo, how's it going?"

 _"It's going,"_ Rythian said, rubbing the back of his neck. _"Getting better. Incrementally. I—I talked to Lalna the other day, and . . . didn't have a panic attack until afterwards! So—better. Incrementally."_

"Hey, that's great!" said Panda. "How's James?"

 _"About as good as he can be?"_ Rythian guessed. _"Very loud. But that's apparently normal._ _I'_ _m mostly taking care of_ _Barry, because Zoey and Fiona have their hands full, so I'm sort of . . . the weird uncle now? I guess?_ _"_

"Weird uncle is good. He's what, three months?"

 _"_ _Yes,"_ said Rythian. _"It's a very . . . screamy. Age."_

"Guess you don't get much sleep, then," said Panda.

 _"No, but . . . that's fine. Sleeping isn't—it's still not great._ _ Fraught, _ _is . . . the word I would choose."_

"Ah, sorry," said Panda, wincing. "I know how that goes. Sounds like he's being pretty quiet now, though."

 _"_ _He's staying with Lomadia and Jen this weekend so Zoey and Fiona can sleep_ _,"_ said Rythian.

"Super," said Panda. "I guess he and Jen get on all right?"

 _"_ _Thick as thieves,_ _"_ said Rythian, rolling his eyes. _"She's convinced he's her cousin."_

"Eh, that's fair," said Panda. "I mean, technically he _is_ her cousin."

 _"_ _Sure,"_ said Rythian, in his _drop-the-topic_ voice. _"_ _How's Nilesy?"_

Panda looked over. Nilesy and Trell were bantering at each other across the aisle, both looking like they were enjoying themselves immensely.

"I'm shocked you're coming along at all," Nilesy was saying, twirling a lock of ginger hair around his finger.

"Yes, well," Trell said. "I've got to come down out of my ivory tower every once in a while. Mingle with the common people. I suppose it's good for me."

"Yes, I'm sure it drives home how unreasonably rich you are, Mr. CEO. Must be nigh therapeutic."

"You're a fine one to talk, Mr. Forty Billion."

"Oy, it's only _ten_ billion, once you take the company out of it. The other thirty's yours now."

"At a certain point, it doesn't make a difference."

"What if I made you and Fox dinner tonight, would _that_ make a difference?"

"Why would you do a thing like that?"

"To encourage you to come down out of your tower more often. Stay up there long enough, you'll turn into a fucking dragon."

"Maybe I _want_ to be a dragon."

"Thought you were an Editor?"

Panda turned back to Rythian and said, "He's doing good."

 _"That's good,"_ said Rythian. _"To hear. I mean. Um."_

"I'll tell him you said _hi,_ yeah?"

 _"That would be—thank you, yes,"_ said Rythian.

"Yeah, say hi to Fiona and Zoey from all of us, too."

_"I will."_

"And James," said Panda. "Though I s'pose he can't really appreciate it yet."

 _"I'll . . . see what I can do?"_ Rythian guessed.

"All right, everybody!" Nano called, stepping in from the cockpit.

"I gotta go, it's briefing time," Panda said quickly to Rythian.

 _"Okay, go,"_ said Rythian, making shooing motions at him. _"Good luck."_

"Thanks, you too!"

"Once we land, it's about half an hour to the Chameleon's base—"

"Still a stupid fucking name!" Nilesy piped up.

"I didn't pick it!" Nano sang back at him.

"It _is_ a stupid fucking name," Lalna said to Nilesy. Nilesy winked at them.

 _"Anyway,"_ said Nano, glaring at the two of them. "Fox has just checked in, and xe's sure the Chameleon's at home, though xe's not sure for how much longer. So, we'll be going in loud."

"Fuck yeah!" said Panda, punching the air. "You said it, no take-backs!"

"I'm aware of that," Nano sighed. "We'll meet up with Fox at the base and xe'll give us a rundown of the tactical aspect."

"I'm conferring with xem right now," Lalna said. "Xe's got some pretty good pictures, I'm making a 3D map for us."

"Perfect, thanks," said Nano. "Is everybody clear on the going-in-loud plan?"

"What plan?" said Trell, folding his arms.

"Exactly," said Nano.

* * *

 

When they landed, there was an armored car waiting for them. Lalna climbed in the front to discuss approach vectors with the driver, since they spoke the best French of anybody in the group. Everyone else piled into the back, where there was a smorgasbord of toys. Panda picked out a nice shiny billy stick for himself and a belt to put it in.

"Trell, have I ever mentioned how much I love you?" Panda said, twirling the billy stick to get the heft of it. "You get us the best presents."

"These old things?" Trell said, strapping on a bulletproof vest. "We just had them lying about."

"They're going to good homes," said Nano. She was looking over a hefty pistol, checking all its moving parts.

"I don't know why you _insist_ on bringing firearms every time," said Nilesy, rolling his eyes. He was lounging on one of the benches along the walls. The only thing he'd picked up was a pair of sunglasses.

"I don't know why you _insist_ on the SWAT-uniform, _every time,"_ Nano shot back.

"Because it makes my arse look fucking amazing," said Nilesy.

"That's true," said Trell. Nilesy grinned at him.

Nano's phone buzzed, and she checked it.

"All right, Lal says ten minutes," said Nano. "Final prep. Phones and electronics off, grab the last of your toys."

"You heard her, Data," Panda said to his insulin pump. "Parting is such sweet sorrow, et cetera, et cetera."

He spent a few minutes removing the pump, then set it in one of the empty ammunition boxes.

"Now stay there, and don't do anything I wouldn't do," Panda told it.

"Oh, and Lom says _good hunting,"_ said Nano, sticking her phone back in her pocket. "She'll join us for the next one."

A raucous cheer went up. Panda's phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it sheepishly. There was a text from Lalna.

 _YAAAAAAY,_ it said. _Now turn off your phone ;)_

Panda turned off his phone.

* * *

 

Fox was, as promised, waiting for them on the outskirts of the Chameleon's sprawling estate. The mansion loomed against the foggy morning, looking more like a vampire's castle than a super-villain's main base of operations.

"Hiya Nano, hi Lal," said Fox, dropping xyr duffle bag. "Nice of you to finally join us."

"Lom's coming along for the next one," Nano said, "so next time you won't have to do stakeout alone."

"Nah, come on, don't start talking about next time yet, we haven't even finished _this_ time."

"It's best practices," said Nilesy. "Keeps us in a job if there's always a _next time."_

"Nilesy, Trell," Fox said, nodding to them. "I'll catch up with the two of you afterwards. Preferably at the same time."

Nilesy rolled his eyes. Trell rubbed the bridge of his nose. Fox winked at them, then turned to Panda.

"I heard we were going in loud?" xe said.

"She said loud, no take-backs," said Panda.

"Good," said Fox. Xe opened the duffel bag. "'Cuz I brought the fuckin' noise."

"Holy _shit,_ is that _C4?"_

"All four C's, all for me!" Fox said, grinning like a maniac. "I'll blow a fuckin' hole in her wall, she's not gettin' away again."

"Super," said Panda.

* * *

 

"After _boom,"_ Fox whispered to Panda. "And not _on_ boom. You've got to give the shrapnel time to disperse."

Panda pulled his goggles down over his eyes and gave xem a thumbs-up.

"Gotcha," he said.

Fox signaled a question to the others. Nano gave a thumbs-up as well.

"All right," said Fox, rubbing xyr hands together. "Let's get noisy."

Xe picked up the control box and flipped the safety off. Four hundred meters of yellow primer cord stretched out behind xem. Xe held up three fingers and put xyr thumb on the big red button.

"Three," xe whispered, "two, one, firing."

Xe pressed the button. A spark raced up the primer cord. Panda sank into a runner's crouch.

_BOOM._

He ran. His feet pounded the ground. A huge cloud of dust and shrapnel hung where a wall of masonry had once been. Panda leapt through it.

A massive room, walled in hues of green and red. Machinery, wiring, gurgling tanks and jiggling tubes. Everything rattling in the wake of the explosion. Chunks of stone all over the floor.

The Chameleon, staggering for the nearest door with blood trailing out her ears.

Panda zipped through the room and reached the door before her. She skidded to a stop and flung up a hand. Light bloomed in her palm. Panda leapt out of the way before the blast hit. The door was not so lucky.

One of the tanks shattered. Water flooded out. The Chameleon leapt into the air before the flood reached her. The flood followed. She clenched a fist and the ceiling buckled and slammed into the floor, the stones groaning and screeching at the torment. Panda leapt for her as the water crashed against her makeshift barricade. She kicked him and he went flying across the room.

Nano caught him. Nilesy barricaded the doors with the water from the tanks. Nano set Panda down and then drew her gun. Lalna strode in through the dust like a juggernaut, their MALaR primed. The Chameleon plastered herself to the wall, eyes darting, teeth grinding.

"Who the hell _are_ you people?" she cried, frantic and enraged.

Panda twirled his billy stick and grinned his biggest, wickedest grin.

"We're the shining heroes of the new fucking world," he said.

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here, at last, we come to the end.
> 
> This has been such an incredible journey, I’m not even sure if I can properly give out thanks. This story has been a huge part of my life for the past two years, and setting it down feels . . . good? I mean it’s good, but it’s also awfully strange. There’s not a good way to describe it, so I guess I won’t try.
> 
> As always, first and foremost, I must thank Mer (@kalgalen). They’ve shaped this story right from the beginning, and (as I’ve said at the end of each piece), it wouldn’t exist without them. From the initial suggestion to do a superhero AU to the truly incredible art they did for _Powered_ to the support and friendship they’ve extended before and since, I know for a fact that this series wouldn’t exist without them. Thanks, co-parent~
> 
> Pan, too, deserves an immense amount of thanks. He’s been a major driving force in keeping me writing; between the villains aesthetic blog and the long, keysmash-filled conversations on tumblr, not to mention the wiki and the Discord server, nobody else has been as successful at maintaining my enthusiasm for this story. So thanks, for giving me somebody to write for!
> 
> Speaking of the Discord, thanks to everybody there, too! Talking with y’all has been immensely rewarding, between the art and the live-screaming of chapters, not to mention the general shenanigans. It’s been a good time, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
> 
> To my AO3 regulars! You all make my day consistently. Kjakings, SilvreEcho, Alcinoe, SerenStone, eclipse3, Sargent_Burrito, Zed_Zalias, and all the rest—I adore you and I’m so lucky to have such kind and enthusiastic readers!
> 
> To all of you reading. To all of you who've been reading. This story is as much yours as it is mine.
> 
> And last, but certainly not least, thanks to the Yogscast. Thanks to the creators who planted the seeds for this tremendous, unexpected journey. If there’s a God and the universe is kind, none of them will ever read this, but the sentiment needs to be expressed, you know? I had to say it at least once, before I took my final bow. I’ve improved immensely as an author and as a person since I first started writing Yogfic almost three years ago. I'm not . . . _sad_ to be leaving it behind. I'm moving on, but the things I've made will stay, and that's . . . well that's pretty nice. That's a happy thing.
> 
> So with that note, almost as long-winded as this monster of a tale, I shall bid you all adieu.
> 
> Have fun, kick arse, and don’t die.


End file.
